


What Amy Forgot

by idlewheel



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Temporary Amnesia, What Alice Forgot AU, not really angst more like stubborn amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-01-30 01:26:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12643329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlewheel/pseuds/idlewheel
Summary: When Amy wakes up in a hospital, she thinks she's 27, about to start working in a new precinct. She's actually 37 and married. Now, with a life she has no recollection of and a husband she no longer knows, she must uncover the pieces and find herself once again.





	1. One

When Amy wakes up at the hospital, she thinks she’s had one of her stress-induced faints. She’s had those before, times when the stress would choke her blind and she’d awake at a hospital room, just like now. She blinks as she takes in everything in the hospital room, her mind foggy. 

She nearly screams at the strange man sitting beside her, his chest rising as he sleeps, slight snores emitted. Instead, she pauses and looks for anything to shield her incase he tries anything on her. She glances at the door, not surprised to find it unlocked. What kind of hospital just lets strange people in other’s rooms?

Where are her parents? Why didn’t they stop this strange man from entering her room? Her head feels like it’s filled with hornets and she groans slightly. Yeah, she definitely knocked her head on the way down.

Despite this, she needs to find something to protect her from the strange man. God, who knows how long he’s been sitting by her bedside. She slowly grabs the umbrella resting on the side of the bed, making her way up. If there’s no one here to protect her, then she’ll protect herself.

He awakes as she stands, Amy braces herself, weapon in hand. His eyes go from adoring to startled in less than three seconds.

“Amy-”

“Who are you?” her voice is rocky and her hands shake as she holds the weapon in her hands. He stands slowly, palms facing her in a ‘don’t hurt me’ manner. Amy’s eyes shoot daggers at him and she tightens her grip on the umbrella. “I _said_ , who are you? And how do you know my name?”

“I-I-” he shakes his head in confusion, his own hands shaking. “Are you okay? What’s going on with you-”

“Answer me!” her socked foot slightly slips and the umbrella whips foward on accident, almost striking him. Luckily, he jumps out of the way.

“Woah! Ames!” he nearly screams. “Amy!” His eyes are scared as he takes in her wild appearance. She knows her hair probably looks like a sandstorm hit her but she has no time for vanity in the face of danger.

“How do you know my name?” she asks, her hands shaking as she holds the homemade weapon. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Amy. It’s me Jake!”

“Okay, _Jake_ ,” she spits the word out like a hard cherry stone. “you still haven’t told me who you are or why you’re in _my_ hospital room.”

“I’m-I’m your husband.” he stutters and the words shock her like an exposed wire. She drops the umbrella. “It’s me, Amy. Your husband.”

 _Husband_ , the word echoes in her mind and before she knows what’s going on, she’s fainting again.

* * *

The next time she awakes, it’s to her father’s warm eyes.

“Dad?” she asks, lip quivering. Her father’s warm hand caresses her face and catch a tear that runs down the side of her face.

The confusion that she felt earlier is still there, clouding her brain but she feels immobilized, like she’s below a six feet of dirt.

He’s still there, the man she almost assaulted earlier. Her _husband_ , or so he says.

Her mother’s hand rests on his arm while he gazes at her with a look that could be described as _adoring_. Butterflies swarm her belly.

She looks back to her father’s warm eyes.

“What’s-what’s-” she stutters, her mouth feeling sandy.

“Shh. It’s okay. You fainted again and they had to sedate you.” he’s speaking quietly, like she’s a child or a _thing_.

Suddenly, she’s angry but her treacherous limbs remain at her sides. A man in a white coat, her doctor, approaches slowly, evenly. “Miss. Santiago, I’m Dr. Melona.” Amy nods, or thinks she nods. Her body isn’t cooperating with her, nothing is. She glances at her mother’s hand once again.

His eyes, sunlit and everlasting remain on her. She blinks back to the doctor.

“Can you tell me what’s the last thing you remember?”

She stutters, tries to find the words. “Precinct. I was supposed to go to the new precinct today.” she holds onto her dad’s hand tightly, and he squeezes back.

Dr. Melona nods and asks, “What year do you think it is, Miss Santiago?” She furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“What kind of question is that?”

Her doctor exchanges looks with her father and her father nods.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Amy, tiger-” her dad begins, one of his hands stroking her hair back.”answer the doctor. What year is it?”

“2009, obviously.”

Her mother drops her hand off his shoulder as he drops his crossed hands. Her father’s grip on her hand intensifies.

Nothing makes sense to her.

* * *

Ten years, they tell her. She’s lost ten years. Two elections, 120 full moons, 315,360,000 seconds. All lost, gone.

* * *

After the revelation, everyone slowly drifts out. It starts with her doctor, telling her to take her time processing the information, it continues with her parents, following after the doctor, asking him questions about what’s _next_.

Finally, it ends with him, the one person who hadn’t spoken a word since he’d said _husband_. One of his hands reaches over to her and she turns away from him, closes her eyes. She doesn’t want to face it, she doesn’t want to look into his sad eyes. She doesn’t want to talk about _them_ , when she had just found out less than an hour ago that that this _them_ existed.

She doesn’t open them until she’s sure he’s gone. Then, she starts to cry.

* * *

They shoot her up with painkillers that make her loopy and will help with the headache. In her haze, she hears Jake talking on the phone to someone. Some Rosa and then later, a Charles. He’s always hushed, sitting in the background while her mom fawns over her, while her dad reads the newspaper to her.

She can tell he aches and something tells Amy that he’s not used to staying still and quiet. They’re never alone which means Amy never has time to ask him anymore about their marriage or about her life.

Instead, she fades in and out and listens as people console him over the phone, like he’s the one in the hospital bed and not her.

* * *

She’s in the hospital for six days, while they monitor her vitals. She asks what happened, what the accident was and they fuddle over their words. Even Jake, who looks startled that she’s directed her words towards him. Finally, her father tells her.

“You fell down some stairs.” his face looks sad and Amy doesn’t ask anymore questions. She has so many, though. She has so many things she wants to know about, including but not limited to, her husband. Her husband who always stands in the back of the room like a ghost, watching with wide eyes. The circles underneath his eyes getting darker, until they resemble a dark purple sky. At night, he slips out with a quiet, “Goodnight”. 

She asks her mother about him when he’s not there. “Am I really married to him?”

Her mother’s face softens at the tone of her voice and she says, “Happily.”

Amy nods, the words settling somewhere within her. “Jake.” she says, tasting out the name in her mouth.

Her mother awaits another question but Amy finishes eating her jello. Her mother fidgets with her hands and then says, “He’s asleep outside. He hasn’t gone home in days.”

Amy’s hand shakes and she sets the jello aside. Somehow, she knew this but she’s still surprised, shaking. “How long was I under for?”

“A week.”

13 days till the accident and she’s to go home the next day.

Amy closes her eyes and asks, “Can I see him?”

Her mother nearly runs out to get him. He comes in less than ten seconds later. His face is unshaven and his sunlight eyes look more like dusk now, dimming him. He stays at the edge of the room, closing the door quietly after him.

“Hi.” she says from her bed.

“Hey.”

“They’re letting me leave tomorrow.” she says.

“Yeah, I know.” slowly, he makes his way over to her. Slow, as if she’s going to attack him with an umbrella again. He settles at the edge of her bed, by her feet. Amy curls her toes under the covers.

“I don’t…” she trails off, unsure of how to put it. “Am I supposed to go home with you?” The question had been weighing heavy in her mind. The question made her anxious and now, the look of fragility on his face makes her more anxious than it ever did.

“If you want.” he says. “I don’t want to force you.”

Amy wants to say that she wants to live with her parents, wants to tell him that all she wants to do is crawl under her childhood room’s covers and wake up to find this nothing but a bad dream.

But, she remembers the adoration in his eyes when he first spotted her, before she almost clubbed him with an umbrella. And she remembers her mother’s words, _happily._ She remembers that it isn’t a dream and that she has to face it one day or another. That living with him is one step in the ‘remembering the last ten years’ direction.

So, she says, “Okay.”

He lets out a relieved breath.

”One last thing..” she trails off. He nods quickly, obidiently. 

“Anything.” 

”Can you tell me about it?” she asks. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “About my life.” His eyes soften and he nods. 

”Anything.” 

* * *

The apartment is not what she’s expected. It’s homey, warm, like she’s stepped into the sun. This is her home until she remembers everything, she thinks as she walks around the living room. A framed picture sits on the coffee table in the living room. She picks it up slowly, it's a picture of her in her sergeant's uniform, huge smile on her face.

Her heart beats faster. Her precinct. Apparently it had all happened for her, but now it was put on pause after her accident. Now, she was sequestered to this apartment and so was he. He explained that he took a leave of absence to her earlier that day. Amy had nodded, unsure of how to act.

He told her parents while she pretended to sleep back in the hospital. Her mother tried to fight him, said, “What about your exam?”

“There are bigger priorities right now.”

Amy wondered what exam he was supposed to be taking and why her mother sounded so scandalized.

“I got it framed when you got promoted.” he says he sets her bags down, noticing the picture in her hands. She sets it down automatically. She fidgets and fingers the scar on her upper arm. A scar shaped like a bullet hole. Her body had changed in ten years, so much of her had.

Her parents follow into the living room with the pretty flower arrangement her squad had sent. The names on the card were meaningless to her but it still warmed her heart to know she was loved.

Jake watches her with hungry eyes as she looks around the room. She aches to find an anchor, some kind of tunnel to lead her into her lost self. She finds nothing.

She leaves Jake and her parents behind as she walks around the rest of the apartment, running her fingertips on the walls. She pauses at the room at the very end of the hall with the closed door. The master bedroom. She hesitates and opens it, the door making a slight sound as she turns the door handle.

Behind her, in the kitchen, she can hear Jake and her parents talking quietly. She closes the door behind her, leaving their shushed voices behind.

The room smells of jasmine, a lit candle on the dresser casts a shadow on the wall. She takes off her shoes and steps onto the cream rug. Her toes curl in the softness, wanting to shrink and live in the soft paradise.

She sits on the bed, running her hands on the soft comforter. She sighs and lays down, legs dangling. She imagines sleeping here, waking up next to her husband. She tries to conjure up a memory, anything. She can’t.

Her fingers grasp the comforter in annoyance and she groans. The door bursts open with a worried Jake. She sits up quickly and he lets out a relieved sigh.

“Sorry, I heard something. I thought..I don’t know, something might’ve happened.” he rubs his neck nervously, not meeting her eyes. She feels guilty for the look in his eyes and makes a note to be more quiet around the apartment. But something tells her that she won’t be unnoticed no matter how quiet she is.

“Sorry, I stubbed my toe.” It’s the first lie she’s told him and she knows he doesn’t believe it.

“Uh-huh, well…” he trails off. Amy tries to will him to leave but she knows he won’t, not with his heart at his throat. She wants him gone so she could scour through the drawers for some remnants of her past life. But he won’t leave.

So, she stands and walks over to the kitchen. He follows after her closely, making sure her elbow doesn’t touch anything, making sure she doesn’t hurt herself again.

Her parents stay for an hour, her mother flitting around her like a nervous butterfly. Her dad asks her if she’s okay with his eyes. Amy nods.

Then, they leave. Leaving her with a husband she has no recollection of.

* * *

Dinner is quiet. Jake calls takeout and then tries not to stare at her as she eats her potstickers.

She doesn’t know what to say or what to do. What is she to say to a man whom she never knew existed?

Suddenly, she’s regretting coming home with him.

They eat their dinner in silence. He cleans the table, telling her not to get up. He does a sloppy job of washing the dishes and Amy leaves him in the kitchen and goes to the bedroom.

She’s sitting in the comforter again when he stops by.

“How long have we been married?” she asks. Jake pauses at the door, licks his lips.

“Almost two years.” he says. She nods, looks at the cream carpet again. “We dated for about two years before I proposed.”

She looks up again. He’s leaning against the door, trying to remain casual but his sunlight eyes burn like the midday sun. Amy plays with the scar on her upper arm, tracing it until it’s raw. Jake sighs and walks over to her. She stiffens unintentionally and he steps back, leaving a large gap between them.

“I proposed on Halloween.” he says. Amy looks up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

“I hate-”

“-Halloween.” he finishes and nods. “I know.” He doesn’t explain why on Earth he’d propose on a holiday she hates.

“Do we have any kids?” she asks, only because she fears they’re out there, missing a mother who has no recollection of them.

He stiffens and shakes his head, eyes turned towards the cream carpet. It was obviously a sore subject. Amy makes note of it for later analyzation.

“Did we ever try or-”

Jake jumps in, stopping her. “No, no kids.” Amy nods slowly. Yeah, definitely a tough subject. She plans to ask her mom about it later. But, she remembers the hand on his arm and knows they’re close, at least closer than him and her father. Her father, he’d probably tell her.

“Did we get married on Thanksgiving?” she asks, hoping to break the mood from the awkward Halloween question, his lips quirk and he shakes his head.

“Nope.”

“Do you have a picture of our wedding day?”

“Yes.” he nearly runs to the other room and returns with a framed picture. Her hands shake as she holds it. She looks at the unabashed adoring look on his face, like the one she saw when he saw her again for the first time. Her eyes relay the same image, warm and teary, she holds her husband’s hand. The happiness in the picture is staggering and she drops it.

Jake picks it up but doesn’t hand it to her, he’s staring at it too closely as if trying to conjure up this happy, in love individual that Amy once was. Amy fears he’s forgotten she’s in the room.

“Why am I not wearing a dress?” He jumps a little, remembering her. and her heart stings a little.

“It was…a last minute thing.” he says, not meeting her eyes.

“What do you mean?” she pushes.

He sighs and closes his eyes. “We had a whole wedding planned but then, Romero, the guy from when I was in prison, returned and we had to go into hiding-” he pauses, opens his eyes. He reads the worried look on her face and his eyes warm. “We were gone for six months. I took you with me. I couldn’t bear if they did something to you. I couldn’t leave you. Not this time.”

“This time?” she asks.

“We were separated many times.” he sighs again. “Four times, actually.” His brown eyes meet hers and Amy can hear the unspoken words, _five with this one_.

“So, when we came back we got married?”

“Not exactly.” he pauses. “You didn’t want to wait and neither did I but you deserved that big wedding. The dress, the pretty flowers, all of it. You had like six binders ready since when you were eight years old and..” he trails off.

“What happened?” she’s scared to ask, suddenly fearing the sad look in his eyes.

“You got shot.”

Amy traces the suddenly cold scar on her upper arm.

* * *

He leaves a little after that, taking the photo with him and holding it to his chest, as if his heart is going to plop down on the floor if he doesn’t. He returns a while later and says he’s going to go to his friend’s Boyle’s house. He says the name slowly, eyes hopeful and Amy nods. The name means nothing to her. Jake leaves with his back hunched.

She’s just glad she gets to be alone for the first time in days.

Amy closes her eyes and tries to take a nap. The cold drilling of her heart in her chest doesn’t stop and she groans, fluffs and punches her pillows but sleep avoids her.

She slowly makes her way to the closet, feeling like a snooping guest in her own home. She opens the sliding wood doors, surprised at the orderliness of Jake’s side.

She fingers the material, trying to remember afternoons nestled against him or the feel of the scratchy plaid against her cheek as they hugged. He has an impressive amount of leather jackets and she tries one on, surprised at how well it fits. She finds three spare dollars in the pockets and a receipt for candy. She tucks everything back where it belongs, leaving the jacket on.

On her side of the closet, everything is arranged by color. She’s relieved to find that this part of her hadn’t changed. She fingers the silks, the cottons, overwhelmed by the colors. She holds a silky purple top to her face and smells it, hoping it brings her memory.

But, nothing. It just smells like faded lavender perfume and slight smoke. She cringes, obviously her smoking hadn’t gotten better.

In the back, she feels the edge a box, a huge laden thing. She turns over her shoulder, knowing that Jake was probably at this Boyle’s house telling him about her questions, about her curiosity. She thinks his voice is probably hopeful, eyes alit and she squirms, hating that she’s probably letting him down.

She shoves that down, hoping to forget it like she’s forgotten the last ten years of her life.

Amy grabs the box, setting it down on the closet floor. It’s thick, a black box with a silver trim. A memory box.

She opens it slowly, feeling like Pandora, a quiver of fear in heart at the imaginary monster she was going to release into the world. No monter arises, however.

Inside, there are pictures, tons and tons of pictures of the two of them. Her, Jake and some other people she figures are the people from the signed flower arrangement. Her squad.

She thinks he set these pictures here after the accident, not wanting her to get overwhelmed by the mass of it all. But these pictures help much more than the flimsy answers Jake had given her in the hospital. These pictures recall lost memories better than anything said by a nervous Jake.

She fingers the pictures, sitting on her knees as she goes through every single one. There are tons of pictures.

Pictures of her and Jake before they were probably _JakeandAmy_. Her and Jake with the squad, arms around one another. Another one where he’s staring at her like she’s the sun, the stars, all of it.

She’s laughing at something, her hand on his arm, telling him with her eyes, _you’re the whole universe_. _My very own Milky Way_.

 _Happily_ , her mother had said and now Amy knows this to be true.

“ _Who are you_?” she asks the happy individual. “ _And how do I find you?_ ”

When Jake comes home, she’s sleeping in a pile of pictures, holding the happy one to her chest, his jacket still on.

* * *

Kylie stops by three days later. Amy’s glad for a familiar face. She’s tired of Jake’s hopeful eyes following her as she walks, she’s tired of him showing her random things and asking if she remembers it. She’s tired of disappointing him.

Kylie looks the same but also different. She's taller now, with longer hair but her smile is still Kylie's. She works in Seattle now, she tells her and she’s engaged to a girl she met there.

“Her name is Lydia.” Kylie smiles as she shows her the picture from her phone and Amy’s surprised at the jealousy in her heart. She’s jealous she remembers her fiance’s name when she doesn’t even remember her husband.

Jake leaves them two alone and before he leaves, he asks if she needs anything. She shakes her head, anxious to ask Kylie all the questions she didn't have the guts to ask Jake.

“So, do you have any questions?” she asks as soon as Jake leaves.

“So many.” Amy says. She asks her about Jake, about her squad, about her boyfriend Oliver, the guy she was dating in 2009.

“You guys broke up after he moved to London.” Kylie answers.

“And Jake?” she asks.

“What do you mean?”

Amy licks her lips. “Did I ever tell you when I fell in love with Jake?”

Kylie’s eyes soften. “No, you didn’t.” She hesitates and then says, “He confessed before he went undercover but you were dating someone then and-” she shakes her head. “It’s not my story to tell, Amy. You need to ask him about it.”

Kylie leaves shortly after that, but not before saying she’d come by later that week. Amy fake smiles at her, slightly angry that her closest and oldest friend refused to tell her about her life. Was she siding with Jake now? Was there some agreement between them about keeping Amy's life under wraps?

When Jake arrives, she’s still looking at the walls.

“Hey, did Kylie leave?”

“What did you confess?” she asks suddenly.

“What?” Jake asks, taking his jacket off and hanging it off a chair. “What are you talking about?”

“Kylie said you confessed something before going undercover.” Amy says, her voice becoming stronger with each word spoken.

“Yes, I did.” He’s fidgeting and Amy raises her eyebrows in question. There’s a slight roar in her ears. Suddenly, she’s tired of games. Tired of it all. She just wants the plain truth, all of it. Jake closes his eyes slowly and then says, “I confessed that I liked you but you were with Teddy. I was gone for several months after that.” Teddy, that’s probably the boyfriend Kylie was talking about.

“You were in prison.” she says then. Jake nods. “Why?”

“ I was set up by Lieutenant Hawkins. Rosa and I were in prison for eight weeks.” Jake says.

“Rosa. She’s part of the squad?”

“Yes.” he says softly, nodding. Amy lets out a relieved breath, hating the fact that she was _jealous_. She feels like a highschool girl.“I also went under witness protection after this guy tried to kill me and our Captain.”

Amy nods, trying to fit this information in her head. But, it’s too much, she’s bitten off more than she can chew. Jake licks his lips and walks up to her. “This is why the doctor advised the squad not to visit. He’d thought it’d be too much for you.” he pauses. “Don’t beat yourself up for not remembering. It’s okay.”

Amy doesn’t answer. Instead, she’s thinking of how crazy her life is. Her husband has been in jail and has gone not only undercover but under witness protection. Suddenly, she’s falling apart. She’s turning into pebbles on the floor.

Jake’s hand touches her shoulder lightly, he’s still talking, the words sounding like buzzing in her ears. “-but, with time, i'm sure that you're going to be Amy again and-”

“Stop treating me like a child.” she says quietly but fiercely. He doesn’t hear her, his hand now grasping her shoulder tightly, still talking. “I’m not a child!” she nearly screams, her voice like the serrated edge of knife. Jake stumbles back as her words hit him with force. As her words toss him against the wall. She doesn’t have time to feel to sorry or to feel anything at all but the anger in her chest.

The truth is, she’s a wanderer, an orphan, in her own life. It’s like she’s been dropped from one planet onto another. She’s tired of searching an empty head for memories that aren’t there.

She’s tired of grasping at the edge of a happy life that will never come to her. It’s a dissolving daydream, that life of hers.

A life that was never truly hers, at least not _this_ Amy. She knows this now. This, all of this, is too much.

“Ames-”

“I am not Ames." Jake stops talking at once, the sound of him swallowing thickly overtaking the entire room. "And I don’t think I’ll ever be her again.” she says quietly, the anger not deflating out of her but cooling down to a simmering calm, a sadness. The sadness takes up the whole room and burrows into Jake, the pain ever so present on his face.

Jake can only stare at her, his palms held up and Amy closes and opens her eyes quickly, heart almost beating itself out of her chest.

_“..romantic stylez.” The feel of her coat in the cold night, surprise blooming within her, brown eyes staring into hers and then-_

She blinks and it’s gone. There’s just Jake and the debris that her words left on the cold ground. She runs her hands through her hair, trying to get her thoughts in order. _What the hell was that?_ , she asks herself and pulls at the string in her mind, hoping for another reveal but nothing comes.

Her mind has gone still again, the rippling water turned into a calm lake. So unlike the beating of her heart. Her soul itches to get out of her body and her body aches to leave this prison of an apartment.

“I think..I think I should go to my parent’s. I need some time to think…” she swallows thickly. He doesn’t answer. “Ten years...it’s a long time and-” she stops, swallows the giant skyscraper in her throat and blinks quickly. She’s honestly relieved, this is what she’s been wanting to do since day one.

However, the look of utter heartbreak in Jake's face whips the words out of her. She stops talking and instead leaves the living room for the bedroom. His eyes burn onto her back.

She packs quickly, not paying any attention to the organization of her clothes. She grabs whatever she can.

She doesn’t even have enough time to ask herself if this is the right move. She looks over her shoulder and Jake’s watching her from the door. She turns back into stuffing her clothes into her suitcase, cringing at the wrinkles that were going to appear.

“Let me help you.” he says quietly and starts arranging her clothes into her suitcase in order, just like she likes them. She tosses more pants into the suitcase and he grabs her hand, stopping her. Amy's skin prickles at the feel of his skin against hers. His brown eyes warm her from the inside as she meets them, melt her like chocolate on a hot sidewalk. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you."

"Don't be." she says quietly, squeezing his hand once, liking the way his skin feels against hers. 

Before she leaves, she turns on her heel and awkwardly hugs him, one of his hands settles on the small of her back. She closes her eyes, surprised at the tears in them. She feels the weight of his lips on her hair and closes her eyes as she breathes him in, trying to find the edge of a memory she got earlier.

One of her tears dribbles off her face and darkens the faded red on his plaid shirt, making it look like a bleeding wound.

“Take all the time you need.” he whispers and Amy blinks her eyes open, pulls back and looks into his eyes. "I'll be right here when you need me." He wipes a lone tear off her cheek.

Then- 

_...the hunch of his shoulders as he walks away and the-_

She blinks. The lake has gone still again. Slowly, she untangles herself from him, clears her throat and grabs her bag. She's regretting this already, but it's what she needs, it's the next step in finding herself. 

“I’ll be in touch.” she say, hoping her voice doesn’t sound too cold. Jake swallows thickly and nods once.

“I'll be here.”

She leaves, the door closing tightly after her. The tears blur her vision all the way to her parent’s house. Her father takes her into his arms as soon as he opens the door and doesn’t let her go when she unravels in his arms.

On the other side of town, Jake stares at the closed door, the slight slam echoing in his head.


	2. Two

_-oranges as big as her fist, as big as her head. The sun beaming from above on the fall day, the feel of the scratchy dress against her legs. The orchids on the tables and a hand warm in hers-_

_-the sun going down, until it’s a purple bruise and “....i wouldn’t change it for the world.”_

She gasps, waking up in shock. She’s back at home. Her parent’s home. She closes her eyes tightly, trying to bring back the memory. She can still smell the tart citrus and can feel the warmth of the hand.

It was _his_ hand, she knows this and _his_ voice. But, like all other memories she’s been given, everything’s blurry. She sighs and opens her eyes slowly, watching as the morning sun streams through her window.

Her stuff still sits in the suitcase she had brought, she had been afraid to touch it and instead used her old clothing, from her teenage years. It all fit badly, either too short or out of style but Amy didn’t care. She saw nobody these days apart from her parents and her brothers who had stopped by one random afternoon. They were still the same goofballs that they always were, though some of them now had grey hair and children that Amy didn’t remember.

She closes her eyes and rubs the sleep from her eyes with her palms. Slowly, she brushes her teeth and puts in her contacts. Her mother makes breakfast and her father reads the newspaper.

It’s another day but the same day.

She knows what’s going to happen next. Her father is going to get stuck on one word and Amy will tell him what it is. Then, her mom will leave for work and her father will, too. She’ll roam the halls of the house, ignoring the voicemail that Jake had left her three days ago, the last time he called. She’ll do nothing with her day and will speak to no one until her parents arrive with dinner. Then, her mom will watch her show and fall into a wine-induced sleep. Her and her dad will play chess on the porch. He’ll smoke three cigarettes and Amy will smoke one. Amy will win and then they’ll go to sleep.

She’ll ignore the voicemail.

And then, she’ll have another blurry dream and will wake up thinking of that damn voicemail.

It’s the same damn thing. Day after day.

Frankly, she’s tired of it but it’s her life now. A life of pure confusion and monotony. It’s like she’s walking in a cloud, elusive with no distinct shape. She’s sleepwalking with her eyes open.

That night, when her father lights his third cigarette and she finishes her first, she stands. He looks up at her and she hesitates, wondering just what the hells she’s doing.

“I’ll be right back.” she says. He nods. She nearly runs to her room and searches through her stuff for her phone. She’s thankful for the two percent of battery left. She locks herself in the restroom and presses the phone to her hungry ear.

There’s a beat of silence and then his voice, low, shy. “Hi, Amy. I just wanted to tell you that..um,” a pause. “I forgot to give you your phone charger so, um, I hope your mom has one because I can’t find yours.” Another pause, Amy’s heart slowly sinks. “Well, uh, I’ll see you around.”

That’s it.

She returns to her father with her shoulders hunched. She isn’t sure what she expected, maybe something better than her lost phone charger.

Her father notices her change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything until their game is almost over.

“You okay, tiger?”

“Yes.” she says and smiles but it disappears quickly. He shoots her a knowing look and she sighs. “Jake left me a voicemail a few days ago and I just listened to it.”

“Ah.” he says and moves his piece. “Yeah, he’s called me several times.” Amy nods and wants to ask what he told him but doesn’t. She wonders if Jake asked about how she was doing or just called her dad to tell him that Amy needed a new damn phone charger. “I’m thinking of blocking his number.” he says, his face is serious but Amy can tell he’s kidding. 

He raises his face and Amy’s smile slowly falls. Her father’s eyebrows furrow and Amy drops her eyes to her lap, a little embarrassed over her next question.

“He really loved me?” 

“More than I thought possible.” her dad replies, his cigarette glowing orange in the night. The winter wind sweeps it away. Amy’s own fingers itch for another cigarette. His dad moves his rook and lowly groans when Amy takes it. He leans back, taking another drag. After a moment, he says, “It used to annoy me how he was always...there.” he shrugs, smoke coming out of his mouth, making him look like a dragon. “After the wedding, I realized that he wasn’t going to go away anytime soon. So, I got used to him. He grew on me.” his face darkens some. “Like some kind of malignant tumor.”

Amy doesn’t answer, her thoughts in Antarctica. This wasn’t news to her. She had noticed the distance between them and her father never really did like her ex boyfriends. Not even Carl, whose father was related to her father’s hero, Will Shortz.

“He called me before he was going to propose to you.” he says suddenly, startling her a little. “He told me that he didn’t care what I thought, that he was going to ask you and for me to stay out of your business.”

“What did you say?” she asks.

“It was a voicemail.” he says. Amy smiles slightly. Of course, anyone who told her father that to his face wouldn’t be alive right now. He pauses. “He was the one who called me after the accident. I thought he was going to tell me off again. Well, my voicemail but, he didn’t. I never heard him like that before. Not when he told me you guys were leaving for six months. Not ever.” Victor leans back and says, “Your turn.”

She moves her piece. “Check mate.” she says and her father smiles.

* * *

That night, she holds the phone in her palm, deliberating. She hadn’t seen him in three days. Her first day back, he had stopped by with some of her stuff. Her favorite stuff, he had explained with a backpack full of books. Afterwards, when her mom practically dragged her dad to the other room, he stood by the door awkwardly for a moment.

Amy had sat in her childhood bed, backpack on lap, words gone from her lips. By then, she’d been back in her parent’s home for four days.

“I haven’t been here in years.” he said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Why not?” she had asked, her own palms sweaty. She was nervous. Her stomach was basically a laundry machine. She wanted to ask him about that romantic stylez line that kept replaying her head.

He shrugged, crossed his arms. “Your dad scares me.”

Amy half-smiled. The room was awkwardly silent and Jake let out a deep breath. Amy could see the semblance of shape of the things he wanted to say leaving with his breath.

He walked up to her slowly, hesitantly. One of his hands touched her arm, squeezing lightly. It scorched her.

“I’ll see you around.” Amy nodded, still feeling the touch of his hand on her arm. When he turned around, she touched the piece. The burning intensified.

When he was gone, she went through all the books, not surprised by the titles. A beaten down copy of her Harry Potter book surprised her. She was always neat and orderly with her books, not one crease no matter how many times she had read it. But this book was battered, it looked like it had been through a battlefield. Inside the sleeve, there was a handwritten note.

_I know you probz wont read this for a while but i love this book so much sorry for ruining it. Anywayz, i love you (n ur butt) -jake._

That night was when he called, as Amy traced the note over and over with her fingertips. The flush of shame filled her from within. She knew he wasn’t in the room and didn’t see her obsessively tracing over his handwriting but she still hid the phone under her pillows and ignored it as it rang.

Now, as the night stars twinkle and her dad snores from the other side of the house, she holds the phone in her hands. It’s two in the morning, he’s probably sleeping, she tells herself. Still, she scans through her contacts. _Jake Peralta_ , it says and her heart almost beats out of her chest as she presses call.

He answers in one ring.

“Hello?” he’s breathless, excited. Amy can see the excitement in his eyes.

“Hi.” she waits for a second, closes her eyes at the sound of his breath. Why did she call? What is she going to say?

“Amy. Hi.”

“Truth or dare.” she asks.

“Truth.” he says automatically.

“You called my dad before you proposed.”

He’s quiet for a second.

“Truth.” his voice is breathless and Amy’s own breath disappears. “I called when he was at work so i wouldn’t have to speak to him.”

A second of silence that turns into a minute. She doesn’t know what else to say, all that she knows that is that there’s something inside of her that tells her that she needs to hear his voice.

“Did he tell you?” he asks quietly.

“Yes.”

A hush between them. Outside, the crickets chirp, the only sound in the quiet dead of the night. Even her father’s snores have stopped.

“Truth or dare.” his turn.

“Truth.” she answers.

“You asked him about it.”

“Yes.” the words are quiet, barely crawling out of her mouth. She lies in bed, holding the phone tightly against her ear. Jake’s quiet, the only sound emitted is his breath. She closes her eyes and loses herself in it. She’s almost at sleep’s door when she hears his quiet, “Goodnight, Amy.”

* * *

She has a visitor two days later. She’s sitting in her parent’s sofa, looking very uncomfortable with the chocolate cookie that Amy’s mom most likely gave her. Amy hesitates at the threshold, scared of the glare on her face, of the giant flurry of dark curls but she breathes in deeply, rolls her shoulders back in faux confidence.

Her shoulder’s go back down when those dark eyes meet hers.

“Hi.” she nearly squeaks. This woman nods.

“Sup?” she drops the cookie onto the coffee table. “You probably don’t remember me but I’m Rosa.”

So this was the Rosa that had gone to jail with Jake, the one that called him when she was loopy in the hospital.

“I thought the doctor said I wasn’t supposed to see you guys yet.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe in doctors.” Amy’s eyebrows raise. Rosa crosses her arms and stands, taking up the whole room. “Plus, I missed your dumb butt around the precinct.”

“Thanks?”

“We all miss you. Even Gina but don’t tell her I said that.” Rosa continues. 

Her mother returns to the room, holding two cups of hot chocolate.

“Thanks Mrs. Santiago.” Rosa says, holding the cup awkwardly in her hands. She hands Amy the other mug and leaves. Rosa sits back down. “Anyway, how you been?”

“Um, confused.” Amy says honestly, dropping by on the other side of the coach. She leaves a space between them and sips her chocolate.

“I bet. One day you wake up and everything’s changed.” Rosa takes her own sip of hot chocolate. “It’s like, where the hell am I?”

“Yup. That’s it.”

Rosa bites her cookie and says, “Yeah, well, you got any questions?”

“Um…” she has so many but she’s scared to ask them. Rosa is scary, she decides and she isn’t sure how to act around her. Are they close friends? Does Rosa know more than what Kylie did? Will Rosa tell her about her and Jake?

“You want to know about the precinct?” Rosa shrugs. Amy nods.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, so there’s me and Jake, who you’ve already met.” she says.

“Whom.” Amy corrects automatically and Rosa rolls her eyes. Amy cringes.

“Then, there's Jake's best friend Charles. He's basically obsessed with you two. Then, Captain Holt, who you're obsessed with.Terry, who’s obsessed with yogurt. Also, Gina, who is obsessed with herself. Hitchcock and Scully, incompetent but always have snacks.” Rosa nods towards her. "That answer your questions?"

It doesn’t really but Amy nods.

“Dope.” Rosa says and takes another bite of her cookie. She stays for thirty more minutes and then she stands and says she has to leave.

“Oh, by the way, don’t tell Jake I stopped by. He’d kill me.” she says as she stops at the threshold.. “He thinks that you need to be eased into it but, I think you’re strong, you’ll manage.”

“Thanks.” Amy says, meaning it wholeheartedly. It’s the first time since the accident that someone’s treated her normal. Like she’s an actual person and not a fragile baby.

“Welcome.” she grabs onto her forearms roughly and almost slaps her to her chest. Amy awkwardly wraps her arms around her, figuring that it’s a hug. Rosa holds her for two seconds and then she abruptly steps back. Amy stumbles. “Any hug that last more than five seconds is practically a chokehold.” she pauses and sowls. “Get better soon, dummy. I can’t keep making fun of Hitchcock and Scully without you there.”

Amy’s eyes soften, almost glistening. Rosa looks uncomfortable again and scowls at herself for having emotions.

“Anyway, see you around Santiago.” She nods once and then she’s gone. Her motorcycle roars as she leaves.

* * *

Most of the time that she spends at her parents is spent reading, sitting in her childhood bedroom and reading the books that Jake brought and when those are done, she goes through her father’s old crime books. It’s been a week when her mother knocks on her door bright and early in the morning.

“Get dressed, we’re going out.” she opens the curtains and Amy covers her head with her comforter, groaning. She had stayed up too late the night before reading and sleep had it’s claws in her.

“Not today, I have this book I want to finish.”

“No, you don’t. We both know what’s going on.” she says and Amy slowly uncovers her face, eyes peeking over at her mother. “You’re hiding from Jake.” her mother’s hands rests on her hips, it’s the same stance she takes when she deals with her students. “When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“What does it matter?” Amy asks, cover her face again. Under, in the dark covers, she scrunches up her face in displeasure. She _was_ hiding from Jake, she hadn’t seen him or spoken to him in five days, though the calls came but they always went to voicemail. After that first one, however, he didn’t leave another one. Amy was disappointed but didn’t call him after that night. Not after that vivid dream she had afterwards.

It was the two of them at their apartment. He was talking on the phone, his voice animated, smile wide. He turned to her and said, “Yes, mom. She said yes.” 

She awoke to tears. 

The dreams kept coming, dropping onto her head like raindrops but they were scattered, random. In some, Jake looked younger, his face thinner and hair shaggy. In others, there was no face but the sound of his voice in the early morning or the feel of his shoulder brushing against hers.

One thing was constant and that was the feeling of warmth that spread throughout her chest every time she saw him.

“Call him today. You don’t know how hard he’s taking this.” her mother says and this lights something inside of Amy. Amy rips the covers off her head.

“If you care about him so much, why didn’t _you_ marry him?” Her mother rolls her eyes, reminding Amy of her short teenage angst phase. “Don’t you think this is hard for me, too? I don’t even remember him and now I’m married to him!” she continues, despite her mother’s intention for interruption. “I don’t remember our wedding or what made fall in love with him! And, okay, maybe I remember _some_ things, yes but, _god,_ how am I supposed to feel everything that he’s feeling when I don’t even know how it happened?”

Her mother’s hands drop from her hips and Amy realizes what she’s said. It’s too late to take the word back, they’ve crawled their way into her mother’s ears.

“Have you been remembering memories?” Amy’s mom asks slowly, her face slowly brightening.

Amy drops her eyes to the flowered bedding and nods. “Some but I don’t....” She meets her mother’s eyes again and speaks again, defeated. This was her secret to keep but now it was out. Now she had to deal with it. “I don’t understand them. It’s like they’re in Russian or something. Like reading the end of the book but having nothing but context clues to figure it out.” she shakes her head. “Not even context clues because you have no idea what’s going on because everything is in such random order.” Her mother slowly sits next to her and brushes a piece of her hair back.

“You don’t think Jake can help with that?” she asks. At Amy’s look, she adds, “Or me. Or even Dad. Talk to us. Stop hiding.” Her hand slowly caresses Amy’s cheek and Amy nods. “Tell me about one.”

“There’s one,” she licks her lips. “At an orange grove. It’s me and…” she trails off and gives her mother a knowing look. “...and he tells me something like “ _-for the world_ ”.” 

“Captain Holt married his husband at an orange grove, maybe that’s where it’s from.” Her mother says and Amy sighs, she hasn’t even meet this Captain Holt. “This is what I mean that he can help you with. Ten years is a long time, Amy. Those were years you spent with him, those are memories you both constructed together. You’re not going to find the whole story on your own.”

“It’s scary.” she says quietly. “What if I find out things that I don’t like?”

“Then you deal with them but not alone.” Amy nods slowly. “I, for one, think you’ve had more than enough time to hide.” Her mother stands and goes through her drawers, handing Amy an outfit. “Get dressed, we’re going out to lunch.”

* * *

After lunch, her mother and Amy find Jake sitting at their doorstep. He stands as soon as he sees them and Amy hesitates by the car door, closing it gingerly. Her mother shoots her a look. Amy glances from the floor up to him. He’s wearing his usual outfit, the only thing she’s ever seen him in but his eyes are worried, some might say slightly hungry.

“Amy.”

“Jake.” she stays a slight distance away. Her mother continues her way into the house, squeezing Jake’s arm once. Amy’s eyes darken, now knowing that it was her mother who probably told Jake to stop by. She’s a little angry but the relief in her chest isn’t a lie.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yes.” she doesn’t add anything else and Jake clears his throat, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Five days.” he says and she wouldn’t be surprised if he had the hours, minutes and seconds down pat. “I called several times.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy.” she doesn’t mention that she’s been busy ignoring him.

He nods and then lets out a laugh that sounds like a cough. “Me, too. Well, not really.” he cringes. “I’m still technically on a leave of absence so I’ve been lazing around.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway,” he says after a moment. “I thought we could go to Shaw’s. Have a drink.”

“I can’t.” His face turns downcast and she quickly adds. “Drink, that is. I’m on medication.”

“Right.” he nods and clears his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll-”

“There’s a diner down the block.” she offers.

“Carrie’s.” he says automatically and Amy nods. Of course he knows which one it is. 

The walk to the diner is quiet. They don’t talk until they’re sitting in the booth and that’s only to order two coffees.

Jake’s the one to break the silence.

“So what have you been up?” he asks when their coffees are steaming in front of them. Amy shrugs and adds sugar to hers.

“Nothing much.” She cringes at her blunder, realizing that she told Jake that she was too busy for him earlier. “Reading.” she adds dryly.

Jake nods, bites the inside of his lip and then adds creamer to his coffee. Amy pauses the stirring of her spoon and tries to imagine brunches spent here. Mornings with the two of them and her parents. Her dad eating his eggs and her mother sharing half of her pancakes with her father.

Her and Jake, sitting in front of them. Jake getting pancakes with extra syrup and Amy talking to her dad about the crossword.

Her stomach churns.

“I’ve been having...memories.” she confesses, remembering the vivid dreams and the random things she’d remember now and then. They were like shattered pieces of glass falling onto her lap, left in random order with no glue to piece together. Now she knows that Jake is the glue. 

Her mother doesn’t have the power and neither does Rosa. He’s the only one that can put them together.

His face animates automatically, a light turning on within him. “What kind of memories?”

“Fragments. Small pieces.” she says slowly, trying to calm his excited face. He nods, thoughts lost in the wilderness, not appeased. “I remembered an orange grove.”

He turns to her automatically, his face softens like melting rubber. “The orange grove?”

She nods, suddenly scared of what it means. Still, she asks, “What happened at the grove?”

“Captain Holt married his husband at the orange grove. They’d been trying to get married for years but things never happened for them. Theirs was the first wedding we danced at. Rosa and Pimento’s doesn’t count because they called it off.”

She nods, remembering the smell of the sour citrus and the feel of his hands on her hips. It starts to come together, like he’s painting it with watercolors, the puzzle stops being fuzzy and turns into something whole slowly.

He continues, “It was after we got married. We got really drunk after the ceremony and got lost in the trees. Terry found us almost frozen to death.” he smiles at the memory. “We had the worst hangover the next morning.”

“For the world.” she quotes. “What did you mean by that?” His face goes from reminiscent to dulling sadness.

Jake’s finger circles the edge of the mug, emitting a low sound. He raises his eyes slowly and says, “It was the morning after and I felt like my-”

… _”-my head is feel like a thousand jackhammers are hammering away.” his voice low, breath tickling her neck. It’s dark and still early, the sky a purplish bruise. Amy wants to stay in bed all day, wants to cast home in his arms. It’s not just the hangover, it’s the warmth of him and the sunlight beyond his eyes. It’s the fact that he really is home. Her home._

_“You know, that would’ve been the kind of wedding we would’ve had.” she says._

_“Yeah, I don’t care. Ours was perfect; I wouldn’t change it for the world.”_

Amy blinks and she’s back, back in that booth and back in looking into his eyes. Eyes full of sorrow and waiting. She takes a sip of her water and tries to calm her running heart.

 _Home,_ that’s what old-her called him. Her home.

There’s an itch of something within her, deep inside that she needs to bury deeply to find it. She isn’t sure sure what it is.

Isn’t sure if she’s to chase it away or hug it close to her chest, isn’t sure if it will detonate like a bomb or float her out of the room in pure happiness. She settles for bottling deep inside her for later analyzation. He’s still staring at her and she knows that her hesitation is reading in her face but in his, there’s understanding.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.” she whispers, she knows what’s coming and she isn’t sure she wants to stop it.

“You’re scared of me.” It’s not a question but she still answers.

“Yes.”

He nods, as if he knew already and then says, “I’ve always been scared of you, even before we dated.”

Amy doesn’t answer and the quiet between them remains, unnerving her. The itch in her chest blossoms onto a massive need and she feels the urge to leave.

After a moment, she says, “I’ve got to go.” She hops off the booth but before she leaves, she turns and says, “I think that I’ve always been scared of you, too.” she says, surprising herself. “The old me and the new me.”

Jake clasps his jaw and looks away, disbelief makes a home in his eyes. She thinks she’s overstepped a line and she wants to jump back in but instead, she builds courage and says, “See you around, Jake.”

* * *

She waits for him to call that night. He doesn’t . Three days later, she receives a text, _want to visit the place where i realized just how scared of u i was?_

 _Yes_ , she replies.

* * *

The moon hangs like a yellowing pumpkin in the sky. The winter was slowly dragging itself away, spring would soon awake the flowers from their slumber and would melt the sparkling ice away. Amy prayed the return of spring meant the return of the last ten years. 

Jake was shaky the whole time they climbed up the stairs, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was stil there. He had a backpack on and Amy wanted to know what was in it. He hoisted it up and Amy could tell that it was something big, like a brick.

“This was the place where we had our first unofficial date.” he says when they’ve reached the roof.

“Our first date was here?” she asks, looking around the desolate roof.

“Our date had to be cancelled because we had to do a stakeout.” she raises her eyebrows and he half-smiles. “This will answer all your questions.” he says and takes his backpack off. Amy watches as he brings out a binder from his backpack. He looks like a shy child as he hands it to her.

“I made it.” he says slowly. Amy runs her fingers down the spine. _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_. Her heart warms. “I thought...that you’d want your life to be told this way.”

“You used the right tabs.” she says, browsing. She doesn’t want to read it in front of him, she wants to curl up in her bed and go over every single detail. She wants to cry, she wants to hug him. This too much. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe you. Your dad said that to me once and he was lying to me.” At her look, he points down. “It’s in the “2016” tab.”

“I...Thank you, Jake.” she tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, hugging the binder close to her with the other.

She doesn’t know what else to tell him, the words are swallowed, buried inside her. Instead, she tries to convey it all within her eyes. His own eyes sparkle, making the stars jealous.

“You’re welcome.” he says. “It’s not the best but...it’s something.”

“I love it.” She says, meaning it. This proves he knows her, this proves that everything that everyone saw wasn’t just a smokescreen. But she knew this already. Between the looks, the pictures in the closet and _this_.

They were in love, wholeheartedly in love.

There’s a handful full of stars in the sky above them, as if the cosmos plotted it. A shower of stars just for them.

She licks her lips, “Can I ask you something?” He nods, eyes still warm. “Why didn’t we have kids?” she asks quietly. She wonders if it’s in the binder but she knows that it probably isn’t. And if it is, this is something she’d rather find out by him. Jake drops his hands and closes his eyes slowly. It’s as if she’s shot him. “Jake.” she says quietly. His eyes slowly open like blooming flowers. 

“We _were_ trying to have kids.” he says slowly, quietly, the words slowly crawling out of him. “When we went undercover for those six months, there was a time we thought it had actually happened. It was...terrifying, the thought of raising children while in hiding. Then it turned out that it wasn’t true. It went from terrifying from earth shattering. We didn’t know how badly we wanted it until it wasn’t true.” he pauses. “I remember looking over at you in that doctor’s office and thinking that nothing beside you would ever be scary.”

Above them, a plane passes by. The stars continue shining and Amy feels guilty once again for leaving. This was probably the scariest moment in his life and he had to go about it alone.

“After we returned, we agreed to start trying. We didn’t care that we weren’t married, we didn’t care that we’d just returned home after six months, all we cared about was about starting a family. Then, you got shot.” he pauses. “And we realized that maybe this life isn’t the best to raise a baby on.”

“So, we just stopped?” she asks, her mouth dry.

“No.” he shakes his head. He pauses, sighs. The words hurt as they come out but Amy doesn’t stop him. She has to know. “We agreed that we would wait until I passed my sergeant's exam.”

“Did you?” she asks. Jake shoots her a look and Amy nods. The exam he had missed because of her accident. Her skin blushes at the fact that he knew she was awake while he told her mother.

They’re silent for a moment, Jake walks to the edge and gazes down at the sparkling buildings with contemplation.

“it was a bad time for us.” he says quietly. Amy approaches him, binder still in arms. She holds it like a newborn child. She feels for the couple that they once were, she mourns it on the roof of the building.

“It still is.” after a moment, she says, “I wish you’d told me.”

“I wish i’d told you, too.” he sighs, sounds close to tears. “I’m going to Boston.” he says, still not looking at her. The words hurt as they come out, as they’re excavated from his heart. “for a few weeks to visit my dad. I brought you here to tell you and to give you the binder.” he pauses. “I need to clear my head.”

“Oh.” she surprised by this turn of events. She’s also surprised at how much she wants to tell him to stay. But, his soul looks withered, torn to shreds, and she swallows it down. It is unfair of her to ask him to stay with her when he stayed behind and let her leave. When he missed the biggest test of his career to look out for her, only for her to leave. Her mother was right, he was taking this worse than her. She tried to put herself in his shoes. To one day have a wife that you would give your life for and then for her not to remember you the next day. A wife that you had to leave three times and a wife that had been shot and battered. For him to think that it was finally over, only to have some horrible thing knocking on his door the next day.

To wondering if it was ever going to end.

“In the binder is everything you need to know. I know I’m not going to be here but Rosa can help you.” he says, gazing down at the chattering city. “I know she already saw you. Rosa doesn’t follow any rules, only her own.”

She nods. Amy licks her lips, wanting to tell him to stay and go over every page of this binder with her. She wants to tell him that he _did_ use the right tabs and that her father, despite how much he tries to hide it, cares for him, cares for them.

That, she’s starting to see the man that she fell in love with years ago and that she isn’t ready for him to leave.

“Will you call me?” she asks instead, letting herself be a tiny bit selfish. His eyes meet hers, looking like dusk. He opens and closes his fists as if stopping himself from touching her.

Automatically, her hand rests on his arm, the touch electrifies her.

“Yes.” he promises, voice hoarse. They stand in silence for a few minutes, letting the stars shine above them.

Then, Jake starts to leave.

Before he leaves, he stops and presses his lips to her cheek. Her skin warms at the touch and she shivers. “I’ll see you around, Ames.” This time, she doesn’t argue that she isn’t her. This time, she squeezes his arm once, a quiet goodbye of her own.

Then, he leaves, leaving her on the rooftop that he once fell in love with her on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I hope you like this! [My Tumblr](http://www.idlewheelposts.tumblr.com)


	3. Three

The binder sits at the corner of her rom, a constant reminder, a mocking one, that is. Jake had been gone for several days now but the uneasiness in her chest didn’t mellow. As she got trekked home that night, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of him packing in their lonely apartment, packing his stuff in silence alone. Of the fact that his decision was probably made in the now-quietness of their ex-shared space.

Her stomach tumbled, the guilt devouring her like a flesh eating virus, only leaving a shallow carcass.

So, the binder sat atop her still-packed suitcase. Her father’s jaw had clenched when, after days of hiding it, she told him that Jake was gone. He swallowed words down but later, when she was out of the room, she heard him whispering to her mother.

“He just _left_?” he whispered between clenched teeth. Amy listened from the hallway, the words flowing from their parent’s ajar room. “Who does he think he is?”

“Victor.” her mother said more calmly. “You heard the poor boy last week. You’re the one who told me how torn up he was.” Her father remained silent for a few moments and then the bed squeaked under his weight as he sat. He sighed.

“I just don’t think this was the right move. She’s starting to remember things.”

“ _Things_.” her mother emphasized. “He’s the one who remembers the whole picture.” Her father remained quiet again. Amy closed her eyes and pressed her palms to her eyes tightly, bringing stars to her eyes. The remembrance had ebbed slowly, until her dreams were vast emptiness. Now, she didn’t remember anything else and she was afraid that she would stay like this forever. The doctor had told her parents that she would _probably_ remember it soon but had stayed quiet when her mother asked what would happen if she didn’t.

“I just don’t think it’s prudent. Why didn’t he think of her before doing this?” he whispered in a way that Amy hadn’t heard before.

A moment of silence and then her mother, “He was.”

* * *

“I’m going to look for a job.” she announces at breakfast a few days later. Her father and mother look up from their food, surprise coling their features. She continues before they object, “I can’t go back to the precinct and I’m going crazy just sitting here at home.” she pauses. “I need to move on with my life and this is one step in that direction.”

Her mother and her father exchange a glance. 

“Actually, I lied. I have interview today; I’ve already found one.” she continues, barreling over them. “It’s at a bookstore downtown, it’s female owned. I actually used to go a lot during college.” she rambles. She had been keeping quiet about her new job, fearing their opinions and the scary fact that her dream job was gone, at least for the time being. She’d been walking downtown a few weeks ago and noticed the sign at the window. She’d frequent that store during her hyper-feminista phase. 

“Well…” her mother begins.

“I think it’s time.” her father interrupts. Her mother glares at him and he shakes his head at her. “What is she supposed to do? Sit here for weeks on end? No, move on. Do it.” He says towards her. Amy smiles at him. 

“ _Victor_ , she’s still on medication.” her mother says through slightly clenched teeth.

“So?” he shrugs and nods over to her. “She can still take them. Do you still get headaches?”

“Some.” she says honestly. They weren’t like the usual headaches she got, these were blaring sirens in her head, like massive warnings.

No memories and absolutely terrifying sirens, this was her life now.

“Just remember to take them and you’ll be fine.” He shrugs and sips his coffee.

Her mother eyes her for a moment and Amy doesn’t move a single muscle, trying to look healthy and fine, despite the beginning of another headache. Her mother sighs, her face slowly thawing. Amy lets out a breath.

“Have fun.” She says and then points her fork at her in a mock-threat. “And don’t buy all the books; you gotta pitch in with the bills.”

Amy smiles and cuts her pancake.

Her head dully aches.

* * *

Lauren, the manager, hires her on the spot. The book store is busy with young NYU girls fresh out of winter break. Lauren hands her the keys the register and says, “You’re hired. Make sure to give correct change out.”

After the rush, she calls her to her office. Lauren leans back in her chair and watches her with narrowed eyes. Amy pushes a piece of her hair back, intimidated. Lauren is a tall woman, shapely, with a tight bun at the top of her head, giving her a sophisticated look. Her dark skin glistens brightly, even under the fluorescent lights, and her dark eyes look like they’re filled with stars.

“Tell me about yourself, Amy.”

“I forgot the last ten years of my life and I’m trying to move on?” she says, her statement sounding like a question. With all honesty, she was unsure of her decision. Being a detective was the one thing she was sure she was meant to be doing. A dream that had cultivated and grown into a reality, a reality that she had lost.

Lauren raises her eyebrows and then slowly smiles. “Well, welcome to the team.”

There are three other girls work with them: Patricia, Lily and Tommy. “There was another one that worked with us- her name was Lana- but looks like you’re going to replace her.” Lauren tells her during her orientation. Amy nods meekly and half-smiles. Lauren stops her quick walking and her face softens, “Look, if you don’t want to tell the girls about your accident, that’s fine.” she shrugs.

“No. I-I want to tell them.” It’s the first real decision that she’s made regarding telling people about her accident but she’s a little nervous. Nervous of pitying looks and handfuls of questions. But, these annoyances are coming at her request, not at somebody else’s so, she’s glad. 

“Okay.” Lauren smiles.

The girls don’t berate her when she tells them the next day during lunch. She doesn’t take one breath as she says, “bythewayguysIhaveamnesiaandiforgotthelasttenyearsofmylife.” The worst thing that happens is Patricia, a spry red-head, confusing it with Alzheimer's.

“My uncle has Alzheimer's. He totally forgot my name last time i met him.” Patricia says during lunch a few days later. She points at Amy with her fry. “He takes medication, though and he’s like a million years old.”

“Well, I should remember everything that i’ve forgotten.” Amy says, taking a bite of her salad. “I have a husband and job.”

“Wait, you’re married?” Lily asks, her curly hair in its usual high pony. She brushes a curl away from her shoulder. “And you forgot him?”

Amy nods slowly, takes another bite of lettuce. “His name is Jake. He’s a detective.”

Lauren narrows her eyes, leans over the table. “Is he cute?” The girls await anxiously.

“I-” Amy stutters and then looks down at her lap in shyness. “Um, yes.”

“Oh, this is so romantic! It’s like The Notebook!” Patricia gushes. Amy blushes.

“Where is he?” Tommy asks. “Why haven’t we met him?”

“He’s in Boston with his dad right now. He’s been taking this..kinda hard.” she cringes, remembering his hard worked on binder and the dust bunnies forming on it. Patricia was right, their life was like the Notebook. 

“I bet.” Lauren’s eyes soften. “Imagine your life slipping through your fingers and you having no way to stop it.”

She wants to explain that it’s not the first time it’s happened to him. It is the _fifth_ time they’ve been separated, he should be used to it by now, it all sounds horrible in her head. 

“Yeah. Imagine.” she says, but actually wanting to tell them that they didn’t have to imagine it because it really happened to them. Because her life was not a movie starring Ryan Gosling, her life actually happened to her and she was terrified there wasn’t a pretty bow-tied ending to it.

* * *

She calls Rosa a few days later and tells her that if she’d be down to get coffee that night. Rosa agrees and then hangs up, leaving Amy to talk to the dial tone. Rosa is in the front by the time they’re locking up the store. She looks uncomfortable in her leather jacket, standing awkwardly in the middle of the dainty store. She glances at the throw pillow shaped like a vagina on the counter. Yeah, the first time Amy saw it, her cheeks reddened, too. 

“Hey, I’m almost out.” Amy tells her, holding a stack of books to her chest. Lauren had told Amy that she could borrow as many books as she wanted and that she could return them whenever she wanted. Amy had already gone through half of the biographies, her knowledge on Virginia Woolf now triple of what it was before. 

“Cool.” 

Lauren comes from the back room and spots Rosa. “Oh, sorry. We’re actually closed but we’ll be-”

“Oh, she’s with me.” Amy interrupts. 

“Oh.” Lauren says and nods tightly. Amy mistakes Lauren’s tight jaw for slight anger on Amy’s part but the look she shoots Rosa shines brightly with interest. 

“Rosa, this is Lauren.” Amy interjects, shifting the books in her arms. Rosa nods towards her and Lauren’s bun shifts as she swallows thickly. 

“Hi, I’m Lauren.” she extends her hand and Rosa shakes it. 

“Lauren, you have a call on line three.” Tommy says as she walks back from the backroom. 

“Thanks, Tom.” Lauren smiles at Rosa and then she’s gone. Rosa’s eyes follow her. She scowls at the looks on Amy’s face.

“Hurry up or I’m leaving without you.”

* * *

The girls invite her dancing that Friday. Amy is hesitant, Friday nights are the nights that Jake calls her and she’s never missed a call. Sure, the first few calls were short and honestly awkward, as Jake struggled to not ask her about the binder but now, they even lasted ten minutes. 

Her mother insists that she go out. “I thought you wanted to move on with your life?”

“What about Jake?” 

“I’ll tell him. He’ll understand.” At Amy’s hesitant look, she adds, “I’ll asks him to call you tomorrow after work.”

“Okay.” Amy says with a sigh. She’d never admit it to her mother but she needed his pep talk. When she told him about wanting to apply at the bookstore, he insisted that she do it. Without him pushing her, Amy’s sure she’d fall off the ledge of the building and not soar. 

She changes many times, her clothing forming a small anthill at her floor. Not liking the way the bright-pink shirt looks on her body, she sheds it. She goes through her closet, getting more and more restless. All of her clothing reminds her of her teenage her. She glances at the suitcase but stops herself. Instead, she changes into her pajamas and grabs her keys.

The apartment is quiet, all of the lights turned off. She closes the door behind her slowly, feeling like an intruder. The loud hum of the refrigerator startles her heart almost out of her chest. She ignores everything else and walks with her head down to the master bedroom. The lavender candle is now turned off and the bed is made, unevenly, but it’s made. 

She stays by the door, wondering if she should’ve called Jake and told him that she was going to be breaking into the apartment. The panic inside her stomach hurls inside her like a washing machine on high. God, she should’ve stayed home. What importance is a dress anyway? 

She spots a picture on his side of the bed and she slowly grabs it. 

It’s them, one of those pictures that she saw before. The one where she’s looking at him like a thousand stars in one. It’s facing the bed and Amy knows of his long stares before bed. She puts it back. 

She opens the closet next. Her side of it now slightly barren.She ignores his side, the large number of leather jackets and his plaid shirts. She finds a pretty red dress she’d seen before and grabs it. Before closing the closet, she hesitates and rips one of his shirts from the hanger.

She nearly runs out of the apartment.

* * *

“This is Logan. He’s the one that owns that burger place in front of the bookstore.” Lauren introduces the tall dark haired man in the loud nightclub. Amy smiles slightly, not really paying attention. She holds the virgin margarita in her hand and wishes she was home. The girls disperse quickly after that and Amy is left next to Logan, who is sitting way too close to her. 

“Lauren’s told me about you.” Logan says, his voice carrying a playful tone. “She says you’re quite the reader.”

“Yeah.” she takes a sip and frowns. It tastes like a slushee. She wonders if Jake is calling right and knows of the slightly disappointed tone in his voice when her mom tells him that she’s out dancing. Christ, she’s almost forty. What is she doing here?

“So, want to dance?” 

“I’m not a good dancer.” she says without emotion. What if Jake tells her mother that he wrote her a binder? What if her mother confesses to him that she’s never mentioned it to her? What if he finds out she hasn’t opened it yet?

Oh, God. 

Her stomach churns.

Logan clears his throat. 

“Anyway-”

“I should go.” Amy announces, standing up quickly. Logan nearly stumbles up after her. 

“Wait, don’t leave yet.” Amy ignores him and continues walking to the exit. She waves goodbye to Lauren. She’s hailing a taxi when she sees that Logan is still by her elbow. She sighs and turns.

“I have someone that I need to talk to and he’s going to be upset if I’m not there to answer the phone.”

“Sorry, but he sounds like a controlling jerk.”

Amy scoffs, ready to argue but the taxi stops beside her. She rolls her eyes and leaves Logan there as she boards it. 

* * *

Jake calls when she’s out of the shower. His voice is melodic and Amy blushes as she remembers his shirt hiding in her closet under her old high school yearbooks.

“So, how’s Boston?”

“I met one of my half-sisters. “ he says. “And guess what? She loves Die Hard, too. We had like a two hour conversation about it.”

“Wait, you like Die Hard?”

He laughs loudly, with it slowly melting into a quiet, awkward laugh. “Wait, you’re being serious.”

“I, um, yes.”

“Wait,,” he begins quietly. “have you read the binder yet?”

“No.” she sighs and turns over on her bed, covering her head with her covers as if not see it on the corner of her room.

He’s quiet for a second and then he says, “Why?”His voice is quiet, thin and fragile like a thin piece of glass.

“I don’t know.” she answers truthfully. “I, I guess… that I’m scared?” she sighs and closes her eyes tightly. “I wish you’d stayed and read it with me.”

“Me, too.” he replies faintly. “But, I’m here now. Not physically but...I’m here.”

Amy slowly sits up, uncovering her face. Through the light of the moon streaking through the window she sees the binder lying in the corner. “Okay.” she whispers.

“We don’t even need the binder.” he continues and pauses for a second, his voice gaining strength as he says, “I know every single page from that binder, every detail.”

Amy’s hand goes to her scar on her arm, tracing it lightly. “Okay.” her voice is hoarse, full of emotion, cracking and decaying under it’s weight. “Tell me. Begin.” Her head slowly sets on her pillow and she stares at the big, pregnant moon through the window. It’s the only thing in the night sky, she tries to draw strength from it.

“The first time I met you was ten years ago.” he begins, settling into his bed in Boston. He stares at the moon from the window in the guest room, wondering if it watches her over her, too. “You were waiting by the elevator and I…”

* * *

“Wait, he really said that?” she asks. “That’s eerie.”

“And weird. It made things awkward between us for the first few months.” he pauses. “You know, he still takes credit for getting us together.”

* * *

“...I can see why I hated McGintley. He sounds like a horrible slob.”

His pause is long enough that she starts wondering if he fell asleep. She glances at the clock. _3:45 AM_. They’d been talking for two hours now. “Jake, you still there?”

“Yes. It’s just...you always described him like that.”

* * *

When he falls asleep mid-story three hours later, Amy wipes the dust off the binder and starts where he's left off. 

* * *

_You insisted it was the wife and I insisted the nanny had done it. I didn’t listen to you and arrested the nanny. She was innocent, as was the wife._

_“I told you.” you said under your breath as the poor teenage nanny hugged her mother after being released._

_“You didn’t tell me anything.”_

_But the wife was innocent, as was the nanny. That Friday, we glared at each other from across the room, both of us wrong while feeling like we were nothing but right._

_“I like you two, McGintley said. “Two of my best detectives.”_

_You smiled tightly until he left and then you said, “Nice work, Peralta but obviously I’m being sarcastic because you were wrong.”_

_“Nice work to you, too.” I replied. “I’m also being sarcastic.”_

_And then, you looked at me with fire in your eyes and the games began._

Excerpt from “ _Amy Santiago: a Life in a Binder”_ by: Jake Peralta.

* * *

The day he’s set to return, Amy waits outside his gate. Her parents stayed home and Amy drove to the airport with shaky hands. The last time she remembered getting on a plane was for her brother’s wedding. Around her, others wait for their loved ones, holding signs with their names. She glances at her own empty hands and sighs. She had called his mother and tentatively told her that she was going to pick him up. Karen had emotionally said, “Keep him for as long as you need him. If you want, don’t give him back.” Then, she talked to Amy for thirty minutes about her students. 

“Amy,” Karen had said. “you have no idea how glad I am that you called.” Amy was, too. She liked Karen and before she hung up promised her she’d help her pack before her big move to Boston to be with Jake's dad. 

Then, she sees him. He looks around for his mother and Amy straightens up, tries to remain calm.

He stops in his tracks when he spots her, making the people bump into him. She waves. He waves back and nearly jogs over to her.

“What-what are you doing here?”

“I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Well, I definitely am.” he looks behind her, doesn’t see her parents. “Did you drive here?”

“Yes.”

“Awesome.” His smile is blinding but Amy sees the dark half-moons under his eyes. He’s tired. She’s regretting all those late night calls to Boston.

“I thought we could go to Carrie’s again. Get something to eat.” she says slowly and then quickly says, “But, you’re probably tired. I’ll just take you home.” She turns but Jake grabs onto her shoulder, stopping her.

“I can eat.” he says just as hurriedly as her. Amy nods, heart at her throat. He drops his hand from her shoulder and then half-laughs. “Seinfeld was right: airplane food _is_ nasty.”

* * *

“So what year are we on?” he says when their entrees are delivered.

“2013.” she says, taking a bite of her spaghetti.

“Ah, the arrival of Holt.” he adds ketchup to his fries and grins at her. “The start of an era.”

He was more relaxed around her, no longer the man who would jump at her eyes on him. Maybe it was the binder or maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t fighting anymore.

“You know,” he pauses and stares at her for a moment. “2013 really was the start of an era.”

“Why?” she asks. “Because of Holt?”

He glances at his french fries and burger, plays with one shyly. “That..and other things.”

“Us.” she says easily, though her heart pulsates in her chest. He glimpses at her.

“Yeah.” he relaxes once again, the tension leaving his body. Amy lets out a quiet breath, nervous. It was obvious where this was all heading towards but she was still nervous, anxious. “Anyway, it’s also the end of the bet and that kind of kicked off _things_ , you know?” He raises his eyebrows her way.

“How?”

“I guess...you kind of always know something, it’s in the back of your mind, but you don’t really want to admit because then Charles would be right and he’d never stop gloating. You know what I mean?”

“No.” she shakes her head.

He’s bashful again, shrinking into himself like a morning glory at the first rays of the sun. “It’s knowing something but not wanting to face it.”

“Being scared.” he looks up at her when she says that. “Or something like that.” she adds as an afterthought. She twirls her spaghetti, the pasta making red-sauced roads on her plate.

“Yeah.” he mumbles. He sighs and then says, “Anyway, McGintley had just gotten transferred to another department and…”

* * *

They spend four hours at Carrie’s, after their entrees and after two shared desserts. It’s only when he starts yawning to Amy remembers his bags in her car and sees that his crescent shaped under-eye circles have turned into half moons.

She drives him to his apartment. Before he gets off, he pauses and says, “I think I’m ready to start working again. If that’s okay with you.” He adds the last part quickly, the words running out of his mouth.

“Yeah, go for it.” she says. “Don’t let me stop you.”

He smiles. “I’m glad I’m back.”

“I’m glad you’re back, too.”

* * *

Logan, the guy from the bar stops by a few days later, a togo bag in hand. He hands it to her and Amy pushes it to the side of the register, ignoring him, remembering his hurtful words.

“I wanted to apologize.” he says after a moment of awkward silence. “I talked to Lauren and she told me your story. About you being married and you know, forgetting everything.” he says the last part slowly.

“Thanks.” 

“Also, I wanted you to know that if you need anything, I’m here.” he says.

Amy nods, doesn’t speak. She’s still mad at what he said. She’s defensive, wanting to hurl the togo bag in his face. But, he really does look sorry, so she sighs.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I didn’t.” he says. “I mean, had I known you were married I would’ve backed off.”

“Yeah, well, I am.” 

He pauses, hesitating. Amy raises her eyebrows, already awaiting his question about her amnesia. 

“So, you don’t remember him?”

“Nope.” she sighs. “Just pieces like, random days we spent together.” She still hadn't gotten her memories back. Sure, she had dreams that would seem like memories but she was sure they were elaborate dreams made of the scenarios that Jake told her at their nightly calls. 

“But, like,” he pauses. “Are you guys..together?”

Amy’s fuddled. Of course they’re together. They’re married, they were trying to have a baby. But on the other hand, that was before the accident. Now, they stand on awkward ground. Now, she’s unsure where they stand, the ground shaking beneath them, making it impossible to look beneath their feet. 

“I..don’t know.” her voice is quiet, almost nonexistent.

Logan swallows thickly. “I’m only asking because I was thinking about asking you out.” 

Amy barely hears his words, still lost in that ‘are me and Jake together?’ haze. 

She clears her throat. “Thank you for the burger, Logan.” she dismisses him and Logan nods, eyes slightly hurt and then he leaves. 

* * *

Jake is coming home from work when he spots her at his apartment stoop. His face lights up, eyes like a firework.

“Are we still together?” she asks from the stoop. Jake stops in his tracks, arms going limp. Everything from his slowly drains, it starts from his face until every single piece of him lies on the concrete. Only his skeleton remains.

Amy stands from the stoop, suddenly frozen. The news had announced snow earlier and it’s been falling in small little tufts. One of it lands on his hair.

“What?”

“Are we?” her voice even smaller than before, smaller than an ant.

A moment of silence.

“I…” he trails off.

“I never really asked myself the question but today, someone asked me and I, I didn’t know how to answer.” she closes her eyes, almost prays as she says, “ _God_ , Jake. Why don’t I know how to answer?”

“Who asked you that?” his voice is stronger, hurt lying underneath it. 

“Some guy.”

“Did you ask you out or something?”

“I said no.” she sighs.

“Did you want to...?” he asks quietly and Amy opens her eyes at the naked vulnerability in his voice. Did she want to say yes?

“No.” she answers. Jake nods slowly and sighs. He suddenly looks very tired and old, every sorrow shown on his face. Amy sinks down on the steps again and Jake sits down next to her. He hugs his knees to his chest, looks out into the barren streets. The fresh snow blankets the streets. 

Amy regrets coming over and ruining his first day back at work.

“I understand…” he begins and Amy raises her eyebrows, surprised at the strength in his voice that his face does not show. He sighs loudly and begins again. “This was all forced on you, Amy. It’s fine by me if you want to leave.”

Amy widens her eyes. Leave? As in him?

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” he waves one hand around between them, referencing their relationship. He closes his eyes and his arm drops limply. “Us. This. Everything. You don’t owe me anything.” A pause. “ You don’t owe _her_ anything.” he finishes quietly.

The cold night air doesn’t freeze her as much as his words do. Does he seriously think that she’s only doing this because she feels some sort of guilt towards him?

She’s shocked. She thought that things were going so well between them. The awkwardness was gone, he was back at work, but this, this was a huge halt. A jump back to the very start of where they were weeks ago. The sound of his voice makes her certain of it.

She stands, dusts off her pants. “Walk me home?”

When they’re outside her parent’s place, they stop and stare at one another. Jake’s face is fragile, like thin glass, wide eyes watching her every moment. The words he spoke earlier replay in her mind like a catchy song.

She hesitates but slowly wraps her arms around him, yearning for warmth, for something to bring heat to the cold dense feeling in her chest. He breathes in deeply, one of his hands settling in the small of her back.

“I’m trying to remember.” she promises, her voice small. “I really am.”

“I know you are.”

She sighs, leans her head on his chest. Her head vibrates as he lets out a breath. “Tell me.” she pleads. “Tell when you fell in love with me.”

He pauses, the hand on her back pressing tighter. “The moment I met you. It just took me a while to realize it.”

The words fall heavily from his lips and Amy presses her nose against his chest, breathing him in. She wants to sink into him, she wants to crawl into his brain and watch them fall in love again. She wants to be the girl he fell in love with again. The fact that he thought she was here out of guilt was shattering. 

Both his arms hug her, pressing her to his chest. He’s relishing this moment, the feel of her pressed against his chest for the first time in weeks, her warmth in the winter air. Amy is, too. Her body remembers him, remembers them. She breathes him in, wanting to save this moment forever.

“You stole my heart from the first time I saw you. Right out of my chest.” he whispers. “Imagine that, a detective committing one of the biggest crimes. I should've arrested you then."

The snow drifts like pale dandelions flying in the wind, falling into her hair. She shivers and breathes deeply, untangling herself from him slowly.

“I should go in.” 

Before she goes in, he grabs her arm and says, “Let me take you to the planetarium. It is-” he pauses and licks his lips, correcting himself. “- _was_ your favorite place.”

“Okay.” she agrees. “Tomorrow, eleven AM.”

He nods. Before he leaves she calls out his name, “Jake.” he turns. “It’s not guilt. It never was.” she nods towards him and repeats it again. “It never was.”

His eyes melt like snow under the first rays of the sun.

“Amy, I don’t know the answer either…” he trails off. “But I’d like to think that we’re working on it. I like to think that we’re just on pause.”

Amy nods. “Me, too.”

“I want to press play.” he confesses quietly, the words falling and shattering onto the floor.

“Me,too.” she whispers back. She raises her finger and mimics the pressing of a button. “Click.” she whispers, the snow taking her words and freezing them, storing them in Jake’s heart.

"Click." he repeats, throat closed up and eyes brimming with tears. 

Around them, the snow starts falling making it all look like a dandelion summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you guys enjoy this! Please let me know what you thought in the comments! I'm going to try to post the next chapter by next Friday but I'll probably be the Friday after since I have a busy week ahead of me. Anyway, enjoy. xx [My Tumblr](http://www.idlewheelposts.tumblr.com)


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2013, 2014, 2015.

She surprised to see him outside her parents’ apartment the next morning. He’s sitting atop his car and he straightens up when he spots her. His eyes gleam and his foot taps, he’s excited and he’s trying to squeeze into himself, about to burst. It’s fifteen minutes till eleven but he’s already here, abound with eagerness, it shows on his face.

“Hey.” she says, bouncing down the rest of the steps. The binder is in her arms and she hugs it closer. 

“Hi.” he replies. _I want to press play_ , repeats in her brain and her cheeks warm dangerously.

“What are you doing here so early?”

“I…” he pauses, eyes going behind her and he straightens sloightly.. “Mr. Santiago.” Amy turns and there’s her father atop the stairs, almost glaring down at him.

“Nice to see you _again_ , Jake.” his tone is sarcastic and Amy raises an eyebrow at him. _Settle down_ , she tells him with her eyes and her father calms his glare. Slightly. 

“Nice to see you, too.”

Her father grunts in displeasure but Amy can tell he’s relieved Jake is back. When she told him that he had returned he had only said, “Good” but the slight relief in his eyes said more than enough.

“What are you two up to?”

“We’re going to the planetarium.” she says. Her dad nods. 

“The Jupiter exhibit is back.” her dad says.

“Yup. That’s why I’m taking her.” Jake says.

Her dad ‘hmm’s and goes back into the house.

At the exhibit, Jake asks her about her memory, if she’s had any more.

“I haven’t really.” she says, turning away from him and trying to seem interested in the Jupiter exhibit. Truth is, she she’s seen this exhibit already. This exhibit makes its way back at least once a year. She’s seen it countless of times. 

“What do you mean?” he asks. Amy sighs and peeks over at him. His eyebrows are furrowed in interest.

“I haven’t remembered in anything in awhile.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Yes. Obviously.” her voice has a slight edge and she cringes but Jake isn’t listening, his eyes are lost. They are beyond Jupiter, beyond this room; he’s gone. As are his thoughts, only the thin shell of him remaining. She touches his arm in worry and he blinks back, but Amy sees the fleck of disappointment in his eyes.

It makes her hand drop. She’s let him down again. 

“Since when?” he asks, his throat dry. 

“A while now.” she shrugs, tries to pass it off as nothing important but Jake is still watching her, something in his eyes hidden behind the shrubbery of brown. That little ball of dark is back, like guilt. Laden and heavy. 

“I just..” he stops and it looks like he’s falling apart inside. Like none of this makes sense. She regrets saying anything about it; she should’ve lied to him and told him that she remembered it all. Lying to him would be better than seeing the look on his face right now.

He’s quiet through the rest of the Jupiter exhibit and that black ball in her stomach grows into an enormous black hole of worry. He drives her home with the quiet hum of the car as a soundtrack. When she gets home, she rereads the sections they’d gone over already, trying desperately to remember it all.

It doesn’t come back and she throws it against the wall in anger.

She doesn't expect him to be there the next day but he knocks at her door as she’s reading. 

He’s not the dark-eyed person he was the day before. He’s chipper. Not exactly excited like yesterday but like a man with a plan. 

“It seems like the binder isn’t working.” he says and Amy awaits at the door, a little eagerly. His eyes sparkle in that mischievous way and something ignites within her. It makes her happy that he’s not mad or even sad anymore. That look in his eyes still haunts her. “So…” he trails off and Amy raises her eyebrows in excitement. He grins, knowing what he’s doing to her. “So, I thought it best that I bring the memories to you.”

“What?” she steps closer to him. “How?” 

“Well, why don’t you come and see, my lady.” He holds his arm out and Amy grabs onto it, closes the door to her parents house with one hand. She lets him open the passenger door and help her in. Before he closes the door, he pauses and Amy can see the reflection of her smile in the shine of his eyes. “We’re gonna get those memories out even if we have to drag them out.” 

It excites her.

* * *

Jake drives to his apartment and then makes her close her eyes as he leads her up the stairs. Amy blushes as she remembers sneaking in when he was down in Boston. He opens the door and tells her to open her eyes. The lights are off but there are two candles lightened on the table top, illuminating it slightly. they cast a dark glow in the room, making it look ominous but romantic.

Amy slowly walks in and Jake watches her with nervous eyes. He turns on the light and Amy’s stunned with the display on the table. It’s almost a banquet of food complete with Christmas decorations. She’s sure that he didn’t cook most of it, the takeout boxes in the kitchen trash make sure of that. 

“Our first Thanksgiving.” he begins. “That’s where we left off, didn’t we?”

Amy’s stunned to silence and nods slowly. “Yes.” she whispers. She still can’t believe it. 

“Well, our first real Thanksgiving was when we were dating but we did celebrate it as a squad once.”

“How?” she asks, walking up to the table and touching the fake snow in wonder. 

“Long story.” he shrugs and walks closer to her. “I also put Hanukkah and New Years here.” He points towards the other parts on the table.

“I-” she shakes her head, unable to speak. She looks at him and he’s gouging her reaction. something melts in him when she meets his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Anything.” he says and Amy can hear the unspoken _for you_.

* * *

She asks him of the boyfriend Kylie had mentioned before. 

“You weren’t dating him yet.” he says.

“Did you like him?” Jake shrugs but he isn’t looking at her. “Okay, so you didn’t.”

“That obvious?” he cringes. “He was boring and fine, I was a little or a lot jealous.”

She tuts and smiles. “I think I would be jealous, too.”

“You? No way.” he shakes his head. “I had a girlfriend after returning undercover and you got along with her fine. You invited her to our wedding.” He continues, “But Teddy proposed to you in front of me and his girlfriend when we dating. He was officially the worst.”

“What?”

“That’s a story for when we go over 2016.” he says with a shrug and smiles over at her. “You’re gonna love jazz brunch, by the way.”

Amy scrunches her nose and he grins over the Thanksgiving ham.

* * *

He’s there the next day and the next. One day he even waits for her after work. The girls crowd around him asking him questions.

“Oh Amy, what did you tell them about me?” Amy rolls her eyes and he grins a juvenile smile at her.

He takes her to the roof two weeks in. 

“We’ve been here before.” she says. He nods shyly in the dark night.

“Remember I told you this was the place we had our first date?” she nods. “Ready for me to tell you that whole story?” he points towards two chairs by the edge of the roof, a huge bag of peanuts by the floor.

He tells it quietly, painting a beautiful picture with his words. She’s transported into that place but doesn’t remember, not really. The slightly leaky faucet of memories has been closed.

When, he’s munching on peanuts and staring at the rooftops she finally asks him a question that had been weighing heavy in her mind. “What if i never get them back? What if I stay the way i am?”

“Even if you don’t remember I still want to be around you.” he says quietly, the wind blowing his words away. Amy finds his hand in the dark and squeezes it three times. _I want to be around you, too_ , she says without words.

His hand tightens around hers as he threads their fingers together. It’s the first time they’ve sat so close she could see the flecks in his eyes and the first time she’s felt her heart beat in her ears like this. It’s intoxicating. Maybe it’s the peanuts and she’s got an allergy she can’t remember or maybe it just that his eyes are so brown she could get lost in them.

And she almost does. 

“I want to be her again.” she confesses just as quietly as him. She hands him her words shyly, a little ashamed. He shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed.

“Don’t you understand?” he argues quietly. “You already are her. You’ve always been.”

“But you said I didn’t owe _her_ anything.” she says, replaying the hurtful words he said on the stoop.

“Yes.” he confesses. “Because you are her. There is no pre-you and post-you. It's always just you. Always you." A warm feeling spreads in her chest, a feeling that makes her heart dance in her chest. 

She doesn’t think about it as she kisses his cheek, it just happens. His cheek warms where her lips presses against it and he says, “I could meet you a hundred times and I’d still fall in love with you.” She kisses him again, a little closer to his mouth but doesn’t kiss him. Not yet, not now. But, there’s an intense feeling in her heart, something pulling her closer and tugging her towards him.

So, no she doesn’t kiss him.

Instead, they sit close together and watch the stars shine up above them.

* * *

“We could stop these these if you want.” he says quietly whe he drives her home and Amy shakes her head.

“No, I want to remember. Not just for you but for me.”

She isn’t lying. 

_(truth be told, she doesn’t believe him, doesn’t once believe that she and old-Amy are the same. truth the told, there’s nothing she craves more than to live in that bubble of happy again to be surrounded by his love and to be able to relay it back.)_

* * *

“Oscar night.” he tells her one night as he leads her into his apartment once again. Red carpet on the floor and TV paused in the beginning credits. “We both bet against one another. I said _Gravity_ would win Best Picture and you said _Her_ would.” A shrug. “We both lost.”

“St. Patrick’s Day.” he says another. “We got so drunk that we fell asleep on the stoop outside Shaw’s.” There’s a table of green beer in his living room. “You can’t drink so that’s just bubbly water.”

Amy takes a sip and scrunches her face in disgust. “Did you blend it with broccoli?”

He shrugs. “How else was I supposed to turn it green?”

It takes them a few weeks to get through 2014 and then, they’re _there_. At her first memory. _Romantic stylez_ , a whispered confession and the thunderous beating of her heart. This time, there’s no big fanfare. No red carpet or nasty almost-beer. This time, it’s just him and her in the apartment. His eyes are turned towards the carpet as he speaks and as he recalls it. It’s one of only times that she’s seen him this vulnerable and she’s glad there’s no big dramatic thing because this is how she imagined that confession to fully be. 

It's organic. 

“Can I be honest with you?” he nods, looks a little scared and Amy looks down at her shoes as she says, “That was actually the first memory I remembered.”

“Is that why you left? It scared you?”

“No.” she shakes her head. “It had nothing to do with that.” she continues, “I..” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “I actually go back to that memory a lot. It makes me me feel...warm.” she shrugs.

His eyes dazzle. “Warm?”

“You know, like old-me really liked it.” she says. “It meant alot to her.” What she doesn’t say is, _and to me, too_.

* * *

Karen Peralta is just as Amy’s imagined her. She’s always surprised at the rearrangement of genes on mothers and children; a God-given cocktail. She sees his nose, kind eyes, warm brown hair. She also sees young Jake sitting in these same kitchen chairs that she sits in now. She sees grown up Jake hunched over these same chairs a few months ago, his face betraying every single emotion and the tightness of his throat as he tells her about Amy, the car and the lost ten years.

Amy folds her hands over one another, watching as Karen makes coffee, taking mugs out of hazardly wrapped boxes that clutter the kitchen. The living room is bare, everything packed into boxes that open like gaping mouths. Amy itches to close them tightly with tape.

“Aw, Jake bought me this for my fourtieth birthday.” Karen coos holding up a blue mug. She throws it back into the box, most likely shattering it as she searches for a mug she swears Amy needs to see. “It’s around here somewhere.” she mutters, rummaging through boxes.

“It’s okay, I can drink out of whatever mug.” God, if Karen doesn’t close the boxes soon Amy is just going to do it for her.

“Nope, you need to drink out of this one. It’s tradition.” she says over her shoulder. “Ah-ha!” she turns, a huge smile on her face. “Now, my son, bless his heart, made this mug during his short lived artisan phase. It’s wonky, doesn’t really stand on it’s own but he was so, so proud of it that I couldn’t bear to throw it away.”

Amy glances at her hands but the mug is small and she can only see slivers of green as Karen holds it.

“Every Sunday morning,” she continues. “You would come over and we’d drink coffee. You thought it was ugly as sin, which, honestly it really is. Regardless, everytime you came over, you used this mug.” she smiles at it, opening her hands and showing Amy the sad, lopsided mug. Karen is right, it’s ugly as sin. The handle is too small to fit more than one finger to hold and the top is diagonal. She isn’t sure how she drank from it or even how it holds any liquid.

“I love it.” she says honestly and Karen’s smile shines just as brightly as Jake’s.

She manages to take things out of every single box, holding up things and showing them to Amy. Amy lets her tell her the stories as she boxes the rest of the things up for her. It takes them three hours before they’re done with kitchen. Afterwards, Karen orders pizza and they sit on the empty kitchen floor.

“You must be excited to be moving down to see Roger.”

“I am. Long distance is fun and all but you really know how much you miss someone when they’re far away.”

Amy takes a bite of her pizza.

“Did I like him?” she asks.

Karen shrugs. “Sort of.” she laughs. “Okay, you didn’t but Jake adores him so you tolerated him.”

Before she goes, she hands Amy the lopsided mug. “Keep it.” she says and then continues, “And I hope you and Jake come to visit us down in Boston.”

Amy nods, holds the mug close, feeling sentimental.

* * *

“So, your friend Rosa.” Lauren asks, not even trying to mask her interest. “How is she?”

“What do you mean?” Amy struggles with the books in her arms and sets them down next to register. Lauren shrugs.

“I guess what I’m asking is if she’s, you know, gay.” Lauren says. “I’m usually very good at these kind of things but I really can’t get a vibe out her at all.”

“Rosa’s..” Amy searches for the word. “private.” she shrugs.

“Yeah, well, she’s beautiful and,” she leans in conspiratorially. “I love the privacy. It’s mysterious. Sexy.”

Amy almost snorts. In the weeks that had passed her friendship with Rosa had blossomed. Rosa came every Friday night, bottle of wine in hand. She slowly learned that Rosa loved bubbly pink wine no matter how many times she tried to hide it.

She also knew that Rosa was interested in Lauren. She had shown up way too many times to ‘pick Amy up’ to not be considered suspicious.

“I’ll tell her you’re interested.” Amy picks the books up. “Or better yet, I’m eighty percent sure she’s going to pick me up today, you can ask her yourself.”

Turns out that Rosa beats them both to it.

“So, you want a coffee?” she tells Lauren when she comes that night. Lauren almost drops the books in her hands.

“I, um, yes.” she stops and shakes her head, letting out a slight laugh. “Wait, it’s midnight. How about a drink?”

“Okay.” She nods and Lauren smiles brightly.

They both leave, leaving Amy to close the store all by herself. Lauren is so dumbstruck that she leaves with the books still in her hands.

* * *

Jake is late. She glances at the clock again but he’s thirty minutes late and the storm in her stomach continues on. Her mother watches as Amy anxiously turns towards the clock on the wall again.

“He’s late, huh?”

“Yep.” she drums her fingers on her thighs. Should she call him? Or would that look too needy? Oh, god. The knock on her the door startles her and she nearly leaps toward it.

“Hi.” It’s him. She looks him up and down and is relieved to see him safe and sound.

“You’re late.”

“I know.” he cringes. “I was trying to get something together with you and it took longer than necessary.” he shakes his head. “Anyway, it’s all settled down so what do you say we get to going?”

She grins and Jake smiles back, holds his hand out. Amy threads their fingers together. She’ll never get used to the electrifying feeling of his hand wrapped in hers.

“Bye, Mrs.Santiago.” Jake calls into the still-open door as Amy closes it.

Her mother says, “Goodbye, Jake.”

As they walk, he tells her of his plan.

“We’re going to Shaw’s. We used to spend eternities there. Well, us and the squad.” he says.

Amy stops, drops his hand. “Wait, are they going to be there? Is this the big plan?”

“I thought you’d like to see them.” he says but backtracks at the look on her face. “But...it’s totally okay if you don’t want to.”

“No!” she argues. “I do. I do.” She’s so excited to meet them for the second time in her life. She wonders what they’re going to be like and whether they’ll like her.

“Good.” he lets out a sigh. “Because they miss you like crazy. I’m tired of Boyle calling me at two in the morning crying because he hasn’t seen his favorite couple. Also, Holt always looks sad because there’s no one there to stalk him around the precinct.” Amy cracks a smile. “That big softie.”

“Describe them to me.” she asks and Jake nods, wraps his hand tightly around hers again.

When they walk into the bar, they’re assaulted by a short man with bright eyes. He grabs onto her arms and Amy yelps, lets go of Jake.

“Boyle!” Jake chastises and pulls Amy away from him, hiding her behind him.

“You know I can’t help but be excited Jake!” he retorts. Slowly, people begin to form around them, circling them. Amy shrinks and looks at the floor in shyness, not used to so many eyes on her but slowly looks up from her eyelashes. They’re the same people from the pictures in Jake’s box. She tries to pinpoint faces to names that Jake told her but can’t.

“You’re scaring her.” Rosa says from the back. Boyle is still smiling, eyes wide and almost tearful. “Boyle.” Rosa says with a scowl and pulls him towards her.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little lame-y Amy.”

“Gina.” Jake says into her ear.

“So now that you’re back, you must have amazing credit score.” Gina begins.

“Huh?” Amy furrows her eyebrows and Jake sighs.

“-how would you like to invest in an emerging market?”

“I dont’-” she starts. Jake looks over his shoulder at her and shakes his head, rolling his eyes. _Ignore her,_ he whispers.

“Think about it: have you ever been to a casino and thought _hm, wouldn’t this be better with dolphins and beautiful sea creatures around me?_ Well, now you-”

“Stop trying to get people to invest, Gina.” A tall muscled man says from the back. Terry. “That’s what you get for wasting money on Hitchcock and Scully’s scam.”

“It’s not a scam!” Calls a balding man.

“Yeah, it’s a business opportunity!” calls the one next to him. Hitchcock and Scully.

“Ugh, you guys ruin everything.” Gina rolls her eyes and walks away. Hitchcock and Scully drift off. Terry smiles shyly at her and Amy smiles back. Rosa leaves until the only ones left are Jake, an emotional Boyle and Captain Holt.

He’s a tall man with dark, unwavering eyes and Amy straightens up. She’s nervous but then he leans in and hugs her. She’s frozen in place and over his shoulder Jake looks joyfully shocked. He smiles widely at her. Holt is stiff and hugs her only for a second before he lets go. She nearly gets whiplash.

He clears his throat and says, “Good to see you again, Detective.”

“Thank you, sir.” she replies, throat closed up.

Somehow, he’s just like Jake described him. A sentimental robot. 

* * *

“Now, don’t get jealous but during this time is when I met Sophia.” he begins two weeks later when they’re sitting at Carrie’s. Amy rolls her eyes and takes a bite of her apple pie. 

“I won’t, Jake.”

He’s waiting two days later outside her parent’s home, car packed up.

“Road trip!” he sings out. “Ready to recreate the disaster that was a couple’s retreat slash prisoner transfer?”

She’s never been more ready to say, “Yes.”

They sleep on separate beds but in the same room. She waits in her bed, going over the room service menu, surprised at how many things can be made with syrup.

“After the dinner what did I do?” she asks when he’s out of the shower. 

“What do you mean?”

“Did I ever tell you? Like did I cry myself to sleep or what happened?”

He sits on his bed, it creaking under his weight. “You ran into Sophia later. She told me that you were both getting ice.” he recalls. “She said that you were so quiet and awkward. She also said you nearly ran to your room after.”

She nods. “Sounds like me.” 

“I, on the other hand, stayed up all night. I was pretty shaken up because I was basically obsessed with you for months. But, I had a girlfriend and you had a ex-boyfriend that you owed a brewing kit to, so.” he shrugs. “I stayed with Sophia and fine, okay, I did like her alot-” 

“Okay, now I’m jealous.” she jokes with a smile. He grins back.

“But, in the end, she wasn’t you and I wasn’t her _you_. You get it?”

“Yes.” she replies, understanding his tangling ramble. “I understand.”

 _And Teddy wasn’t yours_ , he doesn’t add but her mind adds it anyway.

He smiles and wishes her goodnight. He falls asleep rather quickly, his chest rising and falling quickly.

It’s the first time since her accident that they’ve slept in the same room. Even when she returned from the hospital, he slept in the spare room. But now, he’s only several feet away and she stares as the moonlight shines over his face. It would be easy to walk those five feet and slip into his bed; to curl into the warmthness of his body and to let sleep befall her in his arms.

It would be extremely easy but it would not be prudent.

So, she turns over and instead stares at the open closet. it takes her a long time to fall asleep but then-

_…”Oh, god.” her laugh bubbling and his sunshine smile. His hands wrapped on her arms as she laughs._

_“Stop it, Ames. I’m going to die from mortification.”_

_“It’s what you deserve.” she laughs louder and his smile grows. “Why did you tell him that you were related to Barack Obama?”_

_“I thought it’d get us better rooms.” he says and she wraps her arms around him. She smiles sweetly, can feel the sugary taste in her gums._

_“You’re such a dork-”_

A gasp. Back in the bed and breakfast. She glances to her right and Jake’s still there, sleeping soundly in his own bed. She closes her eyes tightly and tries to bring it back, the memory, the feel of his smile, warm like a midsummer day. It comes back in ebbing waves. A weekend away to upstate New York after the first time they were separated. His skin was tan and his leg limping but everything was the same. The same warming sensation in her chest and the same hard beating of her heart.

When Jake wakes up, she remembers all that day fully.

She doesn’t tell him.

* * *

_Do you think that there’s someone out there pushing people together? Someone who would poke people until they got together? Until their lives entwined and bolted together? Or maybe the Zeus story that your mom tells her students is true._

_I didn’t think that it was. Because of my parents and because of Gina’s parents. But, look at Holt; at Terry and Sharon; at you and me._

Excerpt from _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ By: Jake Peralta

* * *

“After months and months of us liking each other at the wrong times; of us having partners and of us going on undercover missions. Of us being asked out by total hunks-” She throws a look his way and he grins. “and deciding that dating cops is out of the question. We finally, finally, go on a date.”

“I thought we had already gone on one.” He had picked her up at eight that night, calling at five and telling her to put on her best clothes because they were going out. She spent an hour on her hair and another hour reading over the sections of the binder they had already gone over. She liked to re-read them often but never read ahead. She liked it better when he told it in person. But, she did spend another thirty minutes re-reading the part where he described the first time they kissed.

“Well, yeah but…” he trails off. She smiles at the defeated look on his face. 

“Our first real date, then.”

He brightens. “Yeah, but before that, remember we had that fake one.”

“We sure did a lot of fake dating.”

“Just two people trying to hide their real feelings.” he says with a fake deep sigh and she hides her smile, remembers the binder section. - _I really liked kissing you, though it was a fake kiss, it was like-_ “Anyway, the place we’re going is to the place where we had our first real official date.”

When they arrive, he turns to her and says, “And let the story of Jake and Amy begin.”

He almost tears the doors off it’s hinges before he realizes that it’s not budging, the yellowing paper on the door announcing it’s official closure.

“Oh.” he blinks and looks over at her. “It’s..closed.”

“Been closed for a while now.” she points towards the yellow sheet. Jake sighs, tucks his hands into his pant pockets.

“Well, this royally sucks.” he looks downright distraught and she tries to find that feeling in her but comes up empty handed. He reads the paper again and his excitement deflates. “I can’t believe it’s closed.” he says quietly, mourning the death of the place of their first date.

Through the clear glass doors she can see where the tables went and the now-empty bar area but she needs something else to open that faucet in her brain.

“Describe it to me.”

“What?” Jake asks, still in his haze.

“Describe it to me.” she looks at him but his face looks doubtful. “We can’t go in but tell me about it, about that night.”

Jake nods, the doubt in his face draining. “We sat there.” he points to the empty place but despite it, Amy can see them, can imagine them sitting there. “I got there first, a first for me. You were wearing red and your hair was down.”

She envisions it. Her in red, pausing by the door as she spots him. Just watching him as he straightens his collar for the fifteenth time, his shirt the most ironed she’s ever seen it. His eyes meeting hers over the other patrons and all of it becoming real before her eyes. How much they’d both wanted this and just how it unfolded before them. The slight terror and the butterflies swarming her stomach.

She feels it all, starts to see it. The memory comes to her slightly warped like a piece of plastic left under a sun for a long time.

“Was I nervous?”

“Mhmm. Oh, God. We were both so awkward and nervous.” he laughs. His eyes are distant, remembering their small talk. “We got super drunk.” He grins over at her. “They almost kicked us out.” Suddenly, he looks sadder than before.

He turns away from the door and walks towards the curb, slowly sitting down. Amy sits next to him, waiting for him to speak again.

“Then what happened?” she asks, their hips touching. Her right side throbs with the feel of him. She isn’t sure when this feeling began but she leans into it, walks down it’s road. She wonders if this was how she felt the first time they went on that date or the time they spent on the roof. She wonders if old-her also relished the feeling, held it tight against her chest.

Jake looks at the dirty ground in nervousness and Amy blushes, already knowing.

He meets her eyes over his eyelashes and before she can stop herself, she leans in, kisses him. His eyelashes flutter against her cheek and Amy’s own eyes close. He’s slightly stunned for a second and then his hand is on her cheek and he’s kissing her back. Her dress is getting dirty beyond repair and in the mid-January humidity, her hair poofs around her faze, a frizzy halo but she doesn’t care. Not at all. This is the only thing that’s on her mind, just the taste of his lips and the inescapable feeling that she had to be doing this all along.

“Something like that?” she asks quietly when she pulls away, breathless.

“Uh-huh.” he says, hand still on her cheek.

She’d been wanting to do that for a while. Now that she’s done it, she wants to do it again and again. Wants to do it until her lips fall off her mouth and until the only thing she hears is the dull echo of her heartbeat in her ears.

So, she does it again. He’s not surprised this time. This time he loses himself in her. This time, Amy does hear her heartbeat in her ears and this time, her whole soul vibrates with the feel of him.

“Something like that.” he repeats, with his smile as bright as the stars above. Then, he leans in and kisses her again.

* * *

_Did you know that 2015 is one of the happiest years in my life? Okay, Holt left and yada yada yada but you were there and that was all I really needed. All I really need. And okay, fine, 2015 is a little sad, too because you dumped me like i don’t how many times in a span of two days. (two times, by the way) But, Holt, like the amazing person he is, saved us. Told the Vulture to back off and with his robot like smile, gave us his blessing._

_That night, I went home with you and although Holt wasn’t back, that feeling like I was on top of the world lived on. And one smile from you assured me that I wasn’t going to plummet to my death. We had been dating for six days then but everything lined up with just your smile._

_And isn’t that all you ever need?_

Excerpt from _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ by Jake Peralta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so fun to write. Oh, my gosh. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this. Please let me know what you thought in the comments! See y'all (hopefully) soon!


	5. Five

_...and there’s a small light in the corner of her eyes. It’s him. She knows. It’s him. **Pleaselethimbeokaypleaselethimbeokaypleaselethimbeokay** she closes her eyes tightly and then the rag is torn from her eyes-_

Amy blinks up at her ceiling, trying to calm her warring heart currently raging against her chest. What was that dream about? That memory...it was too real. If she was to reach her arms out into the bare nothingness, she would come back with arms full of that memory. Not fluffy and light but dark, laden and heavy.

She closes her eyes and covers her face with her comforter.

She doesn’t push it. she isn’t sure she wants to remember that. There was a dark feeling in that memory, something that clings onto to her teeth like taffy. She tightens her eyes, shunning any dark emotion from her body. She tries to make those dark memories into smoke; tries to blow it out until it’s gone.

A knock at her door startles her. She uncovers her face enough to see her father peeking over her slightly open door.

“You awake? I have mom’s birthday breakfast ready.”

“Yes.” she slowly throws her blankets aside and follows her father to the kitchen. It was her mother’s birthday and birthdays were joyous celebrations in the Santiago household. It was always the birthday person’s choice what they wanted to do during their birthday. Amy always chose her favorite place, the planetarium.

Her mother loved going to watch a show and out to dinner but this year, four of her brothers were out of the country and the other three were unable to make it, too. So her mother chose to have intimate dinner at home with just the three of them and Jake. Jake and Amy, like every year, were assigned cake-duty.

Her father sets the plate of food in front of her waking mother. Her face lights up automatically at the array of food and Amy can’t help but smile at the astonished look on her mother’s face.

“Happy birthday, mom.” she tells her with a kiss to her cheek. Her mother thanks her and kisses her father. Amy smiles but the dark leftover feeling in her stomach from the dream remains, sheltered and real.

* * *

“One time, we went to Jersey for the weekend and we got bed bugs.” Jake says as he tosses a box of cake batter into the basket. Amy scrunches her nose at him in the dimly lit grocery store. “I had picked the hotel, obviously.”

“Obviously.” she grins. Jake grins back, his nose wrinkling with his smile. They were shopping for her mother’s cake ingredients. Her mother had asked for chocolate cake, her favorite.

He goes off to the side, distracted by some samples and Amy remains in the cake section, looking for frosting. _Vanilla frosting or chocolate?_

She doesn’t even notice the man until he’s grabbing onto her arm and calling her name. She stumbles back, perplexed, heart in throat. He’s a dark skinned man and his smile is open and full. His eyes are filled with the familiarity reserved only for friends; he knows who she is. She tugs her arm free, almost tripping over clumsy feet. Where’s Jake? Who is this man?

“Amy! Why are you acting so weird, girl?” The man points to himself. “It’s me, Judy.”

“I don’t-” she mutters. Finally, Jake spots them and springs to help her.

“Judy.” Jake says, his hand settling on her arm. Amy stops shaking but her heart beats loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the conversation. 

“What’s up with your girl? She doesn’t recognize me.”

Jake stutters, eyes darting over to her, “This is Doug Judy, Amy. He’s an ex-criminal and-”

“His best friend.” He finishes and nods towards her. “What’s going on?”

Jake glances over at her, licking his lips in nervousness. “Um, Amy had an accident and she, um-”

“I forgot the last ten years.” she says quickly, wanting to get it out of the way.

This Judy guy raises his eyebrows and looks at Jake with a pitying look in his eye.

“You guys just can’t seem to catch a break, huh?”

Jake rubs his neck, obviously nervous. Judy leaves after a minute but not before telling Jake that he’d call him later that week. To Amy, he gives one last pat on her shoulder and a “Hope you remember me soon.”

The walk home is quiet and as they bake the cake, the silence grows into every single crevice of the room, into every sharp corner until it makes it difficult to breathe. Finally, she snaps and just says, “Doug Judy? The man who tricked you and Rosa? The one from the cruise?” she remembers him from the binder. His mirthful smile didn’t make sense then but now, now that she knows they’re actually friends, it makes total sense.

Jake stops making the batter and nods slowly. He cleans his hands off on a paper towel and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry about not telling you more about him.” he apologizes. “I haven’t spoken to him in a while now.” Jake shrugs. “He’s been out of the state for a few months now.”

She tries to melt the ice-block, but she’s slightly bothered by it. She doesn’t know why. “I’m just surprised you’re friends with an ex con.” Jake almost fearful eyes mellow into a relieved puddle.

“Best friends, remember?” he says. “Although, don’t tell charles.”

“Is he a close friend of boths of us or-?”

Jake looks sad for a second. “He officiated our wedding.” A small pause. “He also helped us while we were in hiding.” With that, he turns back to the cake. The dark, taffy-like feel returns. 

* * *

The candles in her mother’s cake refuse to light up. 

“Jake, are you sure you didn’t buy trick candles?” Victor asks as Amy tries for the fiftieth time to turn them back on. Victor raises an eyebrow. “Like at my last birthday, remember?”

“That time was just a hilarious accident! But no, I promise that I didn’t.” 

“Ay, who cares? Put some matchsticks and let’s call it a day.”

“Camila-”

“Victor, I’m very hungry and it _is_ my birthday.” Camila interjects with a quick raise of her eyebrows. Victor nods dejectedly. Victor glowers at Jake’s shiteating grin which quickly quells. 

“Fine.”

Amy lines six matchsticks atop the cake and lights them up one by one. The gleaming orange lights up the room and their faces crowded over the cake. Her mother smiles warmly and her father’s face mirrors hers as he looks down at her. Her father sets his hand on her mother’s shoulder and leans into her ear.

“Happy birthday, amor.” 

Amy looks away and sees Jake’s eyes watching her closely. Over the light, his face shines like a thousand suns into one. Just one look at his face and all past darkness evaporates. 

She loves that he’s the only one that has that effect on her.

After the cake, Jake says goodbye to her parents. Amy walks him to the door and Jake drags her over the threshold, obviously wanting to have a private conversation. Amy closes the door behind her, curiosity prickling.

“I’m sorry for springing all of that information on you just like that and not elaborating.I’m not being a very good memory restorer.” 

Amy shrugs it off. “Jake, it’s fine. You don’t have to keep worrying about me. I’m okay.”

His face glimmers with some doubt but it loosens like an untangling knot. 

“Okay. You’re right. You’re not a baby.” He kisses her lightly. It’s a crescendo in her ears. She’ll never get used to this. Did Old-Amy ever get used to feel of the Earth shaking beneath her feet? God, to live in this moment, she thinks and wishes. To have those long, sustained moments playing over and over again. Feeling the Earth shaking beneath her feet and the feeling that this is what she’s supposed to be doing for the rest of her life. Jake pulls away and Amy begrudgingly opens her eyes but doesn’t drop her hand from his cheek.

“I should go home.” he says, his hand slowly grazing from her cheek down to her hip. Amy shivers and nods, but doesn’t move away from him, relishing his heat. Jake slowly untangles himself from her but Amy can tell he’s scuffing his feet as he does, eyes and hands lingering on her as long as possible.

She hates the fact that he goes home to an empty apartment and the fact that her nights are spent in her childhood bedroom. She misses him in the middle of the night. She misses him up and down. She wants to go home to their apartment with the lavender candle and the warm rug. She wants to go back into the life that she was learning about. Hopes that she can jump into an open page of the binder and land in that timeline. 

Her mother was aging, everything was moving but here she was: biking up a steep hill. Jake, stuck in neutral. Under the streetlight as Jake leaves, she decides it. 

* * *

_…took me like three hours to pick the ring. Not only because I was poor as hell but also because it had to be perfect. You are perfect and the ring had to reflect that. But, after more than fifty ring boxes and a disgruntled shop employee, I found it. And it was perfect._

Excerpt from _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ by Jake Peralta

* * *

“I’m going to Jake’s.” Amy says, tying her shoes. Her mother looks up from her book. 

“Okay. Want me to make you food or are you eating there?” 

Amy stares down at her shoes as she speaks to her mother, her own embarrassment making her ears red, “Actually, I’m staying the night.”

She doesn't know why she’s so embarrassed or so shy. It’s not like she’s 16 and she’s been caught with Luis Gomez in her room with the door closed. She’s married, she’s 37, but her skin blushes despite it.

She peeks at her mother over her eyelashing, gouging her reaction. Her mother nods, face unchanged.

“Okay, see you tomorrow, then.”

Amy lets out a relieved breath. Her mother would no doubt tell her father. Two people told, now one more to go. Jake, that is. She hadn’t told him about wanting to spend the night and the thunderous roar in her ears made sure of that. 

It was time, she thought. Thing is, she wasn’t sure if Jake thought the same thing.

* * *

That night, after his ‘Amy History Lessons’, as he liked to call them, he offers to drive her home.

“Actually…” she trails off and Jake looks up at her. “I was going to stay.” 

Jake’s eyes widen and he swallows. Amy curls her toes as she waits for him to speak.

“Okay, I’ll sleep in the sofa.”

“...with you.” she finishes. Jake lets out a gust of air and nods.

She changes into one of her leftover pajamas and waits while he showers.

It’s less romantic than she thought it was going to be. He stays in his side of the bed and Amy mourns the large space between them. She feels like he’s a galaxy away. She builds courage like a bridge and finds his arms in the dark. She aligns herself in them, feels the fluttering of his breath on her hair and she presses her nose against his shirt. He smells clean, like lavender and like something else, something warm. His hand rests on the small of her back,and Amy looks up at him, finding his eyes in the black.

His eyes are the sunlight in a dark room. A lighthouse guiding her home.

Her lips finds his. Her body remembers him, knows him like the back of her palm and she relaxes onto him. She kisses him harder now and one of her hands struggles with his shirt. His hand stops her.

“Not yet.” he says quietly. “I think we should wait a little.”

Still, she kisses him dark and heavy until he has to pull away with shaky hands. His breath comes out in small shakes, eyes so dilated she could hardly see anything but his irises. She’s sure she looks the same, a mane of hair and a hurricane in her chest. The small gulp he lets out as he gazes down at her is more than enough proof. He rolls off of her quickly and says, “Goodnight.” Amy tries to hide her disappointment with her own quiet goodnight. 

* * *

She spends three more nights at the apartment. She eats breakfast with him and when he goes to work, walks around the apartment, rereading the parts from the binder that they had gone over already. She tries to recreate them and remembers some of them.

Their first fight in the living room over milk. The sofa cushion that can’t be turned over because Jake stained it with marinara sauce months ago. The fight that followed after that after he didn’t tell her about it, instead choosing to turn the cushion over.

When he comes home, she has take out ready. He tells her about the precinct and she tells him of the bookstore. 

“Lauren came over to the precinct today and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rosa so red.” he says one night. That night, they don’t talk about Amy leaving. Instead, he hands her one of shirts and they drift into bed together. They spend hours whispering to one another. Jake continues his Amy History Lessons, sayings, _you see that glow in the dark sticker in the corner? I put that there months ago to see if you’d notice it. Took you three minutes and the lights weren’t even off._

In the morning, she wakes before him. She showers and is reading the newspaper by the time he’s up. She glances up at him and just says what she’s been thinking for months as he makes breakfast.

“Maybe I should just move back in.” she says casually. Truth is, her heart is beating like a drum in her chest, her palms are sweaty and there’s a nauseating feeling in her throat. She’s nervous and scared that he’s going to say that they should wait. As he’s said that night ago and as he says every time things become a little too heated between them.

She knows he doesn’t want to but she wonders what’s stopping him. ( _Secretly, she’s scared that things have dimmed on his end and that her previous relentless struggle against him has dulled that flame between them. But then she remembers the prickle on her skin as his eyes follow her as she walks around a room. There’s nothing dull hiding there but he’s pushing her away and she’s scared to know why._ )

Jake almost drops his plate, his hands shake and he catches it before it reaches the floor. 

“Uhm,you-you want to move back in?”

Amy looks up from her eggs and nods, hides her shaking hands under the table. She crosses both of her fingers for luck. Jake blinks quickly in surprise and then his face slowly alights. 

“Okay. I think-“ he clears his throat, swallowing down the big lump of happiness in his voice. His eyes are huge saucers full of joy, betraying him before he speaks. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” 

Amy loosens her fingers from under the table and grins widely, not hiding her happiness. She leaps up and kisses him tightly. And this time, when Jake stumbles with the plate he doesn’t catch it. 

His hands are holding her waist closer and the plate, eggs and all, clatters and shatters on the floor.

It falls deaf to their ears.

* * *

Jake goes to work grinning over her over his shoulder and promising dinner later. He leaves with the biggest smile on his face and half of her heart. When she’s alone, she reaches for the phone and calls Lauren first. After a thirty minute call, she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, summoning up courage. She calls to her half heart in his pocket across Brooklyn. Then, she calls Captain Holt and asks for her job back.

* * *

Jake helps her pack that same night. Her mother comes home to find her stuff being packed into boxes and her smile almost breaks her face in half. She changes into some sweats and then comes help. Jake doesn’t mention her unpacked bag from her first day there. Amy ignores it, too.

Her father comes home to most of the stuff already packed and makes them coffee while they finish. He catches her alone, grabbing one of her books she forgot. 

He leans against the door frame, “Leaving again, huh?”

“Yes, I think it’s time.” 

He’s quiet for a second.

“You know that I support you in everything you do, right? Be it what it may?”

Amy raises her eyebrows, not used to her father being so openly sentimental. “Yes, I know.” she narrows her eyes. “Dad are you crying?”

“Nope.” he straightens up, tucks his hands into his pockets. “Just…” he searches for a word. “proud. You’re not the scared Amy that you were when you first arrived.”

Amy hardly remembers that her, doesn’t recognize her.

“Yes, I’m not her anymore.”

“You two have been through a lot but-” he nods towards her. “-you two sure know how to remain strong through it all. I’m proud of you two.”

Now she’s the sentimental one. “Thanks, dad.” she hugs him. At this time, Jake walks back into the room.

Jake gasps. “Family hug?” 

Her father protests but it goes deaf to Jake as he wraps his arms tight around the two of them. Victor grumbles under his breath but then lets himself be hugged. Amy smiles. 

* * *

A few mornings later, she stands over the suitcase she had packed all those months ago and slowly opens it. Instantly, she was taken aback to that night: her quick packing and Jake’s efforts to make her happy by folding her clothes neatly, when all she wanted to do was leave as soon as possible. Amy fingers the unwrinkled suits,pressing them to her nose trying to remember that desperate feeling in her heart then. Not because she yearns it but because she wants to look at it with nostalgia as one would their younger 12 year old self. Wants to chastise herself. 

She wonders if things would have gone differently had she stayed with Jake. Would she be staying in their room alone for weeks on end while Jake was ten feet away desperately wishing for her? Would she, in her own loneliness, push him even farther away? Or, had she stayed, would she have fallen for his kind eyes, his generosity and the warmth that followed after him like he had how own personal sun?

Would she have knocked in his guest room in the middle of the night, wanting solace and fearing solitude? A girl lost, dropped in the place that she no longer remembered, clinging to the last dregs of her past life. Jake, desperate and willing to do anything for her to come back to him, in any shape or form. Would he open the door and let her in? 

Now, Amy looks up from the floor to his sleeping face in the bed and smiles. She would’ve found him in any way possible. Jake once told her that he would go to the end of the world for her and now, as she walks over and kisses his sleeping face, she thinks she would, too.

When Jake awakes, Amy is already in the kitchen eating. He stops at the threshold, surprised at her pin straight hair and her neatly pressed suit. His eyes glimmer and shine as he makes his way over to her. Amy pretends not to notice the hearts he’s sending through his eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asks quietly, the excitement threatening to leak out of him and envelop the whole room.

“Oh, hey.” she says faux-casually. “I’m going back to work today. I talked to Holt a few days ago and he said that it’s fine but I’m on desk duty.” She contains her excitement within her voice. “Basically, I’m going everyone’s paperwork which I don’t care about; I love paperwork.”

“But you still haven’t…” he trails off and Amy nods along.

“Yeah but I’m getting there.” she says and stands, straightening her jacket. Jake eyes her up and down, as if he can’t believe she’s really here, dressed as she used to do. Amy walks over to him, sees the stars within his eyes, tries not to be blinded. “I’m remembering it slowly, Jake and you know what Doctor Masina said.”

“They’ll come slowly.” Jake repeats. Amy nods along. Jake sighs but his eyebrows furrow, “What about your headaches?” 

Amy shrugs. “The headaches are almost gone, Jake.”

“Your medication?” Amy pats her coat pocket.

Jake nods and his eyebrows relax. He smiles gradually. “Okay.” His face turn serious. “But if you feel bad, like your head starts hurting or anything--you tell Holt.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “Okay, _dad_.”

The squad has flowers on her desk when she appears and Boyle cheers louder than anyone.

“I literally prayed to God you’d return soon.” he says with Amy swears _tears_ in his eyes. 

“Creepy.” Jake comments. 

“Glad you’re back, dummy.” Rosa says, lightly patting her head. Holt nods at her from his door as she sets her stuff down. She’s glad she’s back, too.

* * *

Days later, they hold hands under the covers as Jake reads from the binder. Amy tucks her face closer to his neck and Jake stops reading for a second. His eyelashes flutter close and he says, “You’re distracting me.” His voice carries a playful lilt and Amy grins against his collarbone. “Don’t you want to know what happens?”

“What does it matter? We end up together, don’t we?”

“Well, yeah but I’m almost to the good part.” he says. “I’m about to propose to you. My proposal was pretty epic.” 

“Okay, okay.” Amy untangles herself from him. Jake clears his throat dramatically and Amy presses her smile against his shoulder. 

“Anyway, as I was saying-”

- _...the red blooms like poppies and all she can do is stare as the red fills her sleeve. She’s incredulous. This isn’t happening, not right now. Not when things are going so good and not when everything that she’s ever wanted is just a hand’s reach awa-_

“Amy! Amy!” Amy blinks and she’s back in bed with Jake, who has thrown the binder to the floor in suprise. It lays there, the clips open and the papers strewn all over the floor. He’s still shaking her slightly and Amy doesn’t move, the taffy-like feel in her mouth again. She whimpers, closes her eyes and then face collapses into itself as she cries. Jake automatically holds her closer and just lets her cry against him.

“The shot.” she say through her tears. “Remember?” Jake pulls back, arms still holding her close. His eyes are open wide, mouth a thin line.

“What?”

“The shot. What happened? Why?” she sniffles, the tears still coming but quietly.

Jake shakes his head. “We’re not there yet.” he says quietly. Amy stiffens in his arms.

“Don’t shy me away from the bad stuff. Don’t.” her voice is a string about to snap. “I deserve the right to know.” her ragged voice scares him because everything drains form his face in worry. “I know you want to tell me the good stuff but I also deserve to know all of it. All of my life.”

“You got shot because of me.” he says quietly. “Because I was stupid and I pressured Holt into letting me tease Romero into coming out of hiding. I just wanted it to end. I thought we had him but somehow he knew and he went after you. He called you and said that he had me, that’s why you went to that warehouse.” he quiets for a second. “But I wasn’t there. He kept you there for a few hours and then,” he smiles proudly. “, you got away. While you were leaving, you got shot.”

Amy blinks up at him, tries to make sense of it. She remembers bits of it. The dingy warehouse, the flesh-eating worry eating her alive inside. Amy closes her eyes and she can see it now; opening her eyes to a worried Jake in the hospital, the idea that things were not really over, his guilt that sat like a fog around the apartment for weeks on end. His heavy eyes, the weight of his brow and the way he sat her down to discuss the baby. The anger in her chest that she swallowed down because she agreed. This was no place to raise a child. The space between them in their shared bed that night. Her unblinking eyes staring at the closet, up in the top shelf where the baby names book sat, the one they bought while in hiding. Her finger absentmindedly tracing her scar and the simmering sadness in her chest. Jake, on the other side of the bed, watching her still back with his own unblinking eyes. His hand reaching over to her waist but it stopping before reaching it.

 _Let’s wait until he’s gone_ , he pleaded but Amy heard the finality in his voice and the fear. 

Now, she opens her eyes at him.

“The exam.”

Jake nods. “We thought that once I passed the exam, I would have more leverage and we would get rid of him faster.”

“He’s still out there.” It’s not a question. Jake nods. “Are you scared?”

“Yes. He escaped jail, Ames. God knows where he is. They say they’re looking for him but who even knows. Holt said that if I passed, he’d be able to bend a rules and get me my own team to search for him.” 

Amy remains quiet for a second. “Then take your exam.”

He almost scoffs. “It’s not that important right now. I have other things-”

“Jake, it _is_ important.” she says and Jake ceases talking. “You can take it again, right? Or do you have to wait?”

“No, I deferred.”

Amy nods. “When’s the next one?”

“Two months.” he says quietly, ashamed of knowing the schedule and Amy’s heart glows thinking that he’s probably been checking the schedule regularly. 

“Okay. We can do it.” He raises her eyebrows. “I passed it, right? I can tutor you.” Jake looks apprehensive and Amy raises her eyebrows. “Are you underestimating my teaching abilities?”

He smiles softly down at her and kisses her once. “Hardly.”

* * *

She glues post it notes to every part of the apartment. Jake can’t eat an egg without looking at Police codes and without being hit in the face with studying material. At work, she quizzes him as they walk in or on the ride home. He doesn’t grow tired, he grows with confidence. His smile dazzles even more and everytime she corrects him and goes off on a tangent, his eyes gleam.

He’ll be ready, she’s sure of it. When she’s alone in the apartment, she lets herself cry a little with worry. Worry about the future, about her memories, about Jake’s exam. 

* * *

... _Amy plays with one of the evidence boxes. Her wedding dress is tight against her skin and it makes her itchy but she doesn’t know if it’s the taffeta or the worry. When she tried it on, her mother said, “_ Jake is going to love it” _. Now, in the evidence room, waiting for information about where her husband-to-be was, she wished he would at least get to see it. Even if they didn’t get married._

 _She isn’t even sure how it happened. It all happened too fast. The drive on the way to the venue and then the sudden stop. The distant gunshots and Jake calling her and begging her,_ “Stay in the car.” _Nobody telling her anything for half an hour while she worried herself to death, sitting in that damn car, alone with just the driver. The poor driver almost being driven crazy with her insistent questioning._

_Captain Holt, opening the door to the car and telling her to come with him. To Holt driving them the precinct, Holt locking himself in his office with a suited man. And Amy, with no one telling her things, went into the evidence room._

_“We haven’t heard from him.” Holt had said, still in his tux. “His car got intercepted by Romero.”_

_That was half an hour ago and Amy plucks the bobby-pins from her hair, letting her scalp breathe. Her hair falls into wispy curls around her face and she brushes the hair behind her ears._

_The door creaking open startles her and she nearly sobs when she sees Jake, his hair disheveled and his eyes red._

_His eyes widen and sweeten with love as he sees her in her full wedding attire. “Amy...you look..” he trails off, shaking his head. Amy smiles but it falls quickly, her eyes filling with tears. She’s filled with relief at the fact that he’s here but she’s also shaking in fear. Why was he gone so long? Why is there a sliver of blood staining his tux? Who’s is it?_

_“Jake.” she whimpers. He nearly runs over to her, pressing her against his chest._

_“Hey.” he says quietly._

_“What happened?”_

_“He got away.” he pauses, something hidden in his eyes._

_“What’s going on? Is there something else?”_

_“Yes.” he pauses again._

_“Jake.” she begs._

_“I have to go into hiding again.”_

_Amy doesn’t answer. She anticipated this. He’d been hunting at them for a few months now. This is what it was leading towards. Now they’re at their destination. Who knew where they were headed next._

_“When do you leave?”_

_“Tonight.” he pauses again, brings her hand to his cheek, kisses her fingertips lightly. “Come with me, please. I can’t do this alone. Not again.”_

_She pauses for a second; the sheer fact that he was going to be gone for God knows how long terrifies her. The fact that she wasn’t sure how she was going to deal with this alone. The fact that if she said “No”, this might be the last time she sees him for a long time._

_She doesn’t think of anything else as she looks at him and says, “Okay.”_

_She packs their bags while he calls his parents and then hers. His voice is calm as he deals with their questions. She tells her mother that she loves her and calms her father’s worries as Jake talks with Holt at the door._

_When the bags are packed, Amy glances around the now quiet apartment while Jake watches her from the door, eyes not drifting away from her. He’s still in his tux, tie loose around his neck and Amy with her wedding dress wrinkled. She threads their fingers together as they walk out to meet Holt._

_And for the first time, Amy says goodbye to Amy Santiago._

Amy drops the perfume bottle in her hands and falls to her knees in shock.The glass shatters around the room, drenching it in a coconut smell that’s sure to last for months.

She crawls over to the closet, throwing all the clothes aside. She doesn’t think of anything else as she searches for it. She has to find it. She snaps a fingernail as she throws coats to the floor and it bleeds over one of her white tops. The blood is the least of her worries. Then, there it is hidden in the very, very back. Her wedding dress. As soon as she makes contact with it, she closes her eyes, still holding to that little sliver of it. She holds it up to her face, remembering buying it with her mother. Loving the tightness and the billowing material below her knees. _You look like a mermaid_ , Jake had once said to her and that dress made her one. 

She sniffles, not really crying but just letting the memories come. She remembers staying at Rosa’s the night before the wedding and Jake calling her in the middle of the night. Remembers talking for hours and his voice like honey saying, “I can’t wait to marry you.” 

When Jake arrives, she’s still in the closet holding that piece of dress, caressing it slightly. Jake stumbles around the clothes on the floor.

“You remembered.” he whispers. Amy nods. He holds a hand out and Amy grabs it, lets go of the wedding dress slowly. They sit hip to hip on the bed, in the quiet. She isn’t sure what to say. She has no questions. She remembers every single detail about the wedding. Or the wedding that wasn’t. 

Jake gouges her reaction but Amy doesn’t give him one, she just closes her eyes and remembers the relief as he walked in the evidence room doors.

Outside, the moon says hello and gleams like a pearl in the sky. The light of the moon streams through the open window, the curtains billowing with slight wind. 

His face is illuminated with silver and Amy wants to know how a man who is so much like the sun could also be like the moon. She wonders what she is but then she decides that she’s the stars. The ones that glitter around him, the ones that shine when he’s down. The ones that shine on their own.

She doesn’t know who starts it but all she does know is that his lips on hers feel like the Big Bang itself, like the creation of the Universe has begun again. His arms are tight around her and Amy wants him to pulls her closer, wants to crawl into him. _Please, please, please_ she thinks. 

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing but the feeling doesn’t leave. If not for his arms, she’d float out into the universe, become roommates with Mercury, dance on Jupiter’s rings, become best friends with Venus.

She doesn’t even know when she begins to cry but he kisses the tears away.

“Shh.” he tells her and kisses the rest of her tears away. His shoulders shake and she notices that he’s crying his own silent cry. Their tears blend together onto her face. She kisses the next one off his cheek, reveling in the salty taste. 

Their grief slowly leaves their bodies, in forms of cries and tears, kisses. She loses her shirt and Jake does, too. His hand pillows her fall onto the bed and his warmth keeps her toasty. They lay in their eachothers arms, shirtless and warm. They kiss until their lips are tired and until their eyelids droop with tiredness. He tucks his face into her neck and falls asleep with his lips to her pulse.

In the middle of the night, she wakes and stretches, his head still heavy against her neck. He awakes with her and then slowly, their lips meet again like two magnets. She’s clumsy, hands shaking as she undoes his zipper and he’s shaking when he kisses down to her collarbone. It’s picking off right where they left off, like taking off the bookmark and continuing the book. It’s like arriving home, she thinks, as she shivers as he takes off her pants and tosses them.

Amy doesn’t wake up till almost two in the afternoon the next day, boneless and naked. Jake’s watching her sleep, a content look on his face. 

“Morning.” she croaks. She feels like she’s swallowed sand and she’s a little guilty of waking up so late. 

“Morning.” the tips of his fingers graze her cheek and she leans into it, closes her eyes like a cat. Lets the heat warm her to her marrow. Let’s every part of him fall into her. 

And she doesn’t ask herself twice what this is, because this is falling in love for the second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! I hope you guys enjoy this. Just a small FYI, originally, I had four chapters planned and then that grew to five and now six. But honestly, probably seven; just depends how long the sixth chapter is.  
> P.S, incase it wasn't fully clear this is the order that things happen.  
> 1) the wedding/the wedding that never happened  
> 2) hiding for six months  
> 3) Amy getting shot  
>   
> Let me know what you thought in the comments!


	6. The End Part1

A whole nother world, that’s what her life before the accident would be described as. Amy glances up at the ceiling of her room and contemplates it before nodding. Life before the accident really was a whole different world. A window with the blinds closed tight; a locked door to which she had no key for.

The memories fell like before: sodden pieces of paper, disintegrating in her own hands. After the first clear memory of their wedding that never was, they slowly ebbed. Not as quickly as before but still, this scared her. It was like her mind was a typewriter that slowly began running out of ink. Now, whole sentences were unassembled words and memories were lost in the wind like flying poppy seeds.

Beside her, Jake mumbles in his sleep, arm draped over her stomach. His exam was in three days and he was ready for it, she was sure of it. She brushes a piece of his hair back and in his visit of dreamland, he half smiles. Amy closes her eyes and tries to find that little edge of a dream, or perhaps, a memory.

Instead, she spends the rest of the night staring up at the white ceiling.

* * *

“You don’t need the pills anymore so I won’t assign a prescription.” Dr. Masina tells her a day later. Amy glances up, eyebrows furrowed.

“But the headaches haven’t left yet.” Dr. Masina pauses and his lips purse.

“Miss. Santiago are you more preoccupied than before?”

“What?” she asks, dumbfounded. “I don’t-”

“Your blood pressure if very high. It’s been months; your headaches should not be happening because of the accident. Is there something that’s stressing you out?”

“Not getting my memories back.” she answers harshly but winces. It’s not Dr. Masina’s fault but she’s very irritated and it has nothing to do with the fact that for the first time in her life, she was late to an appointment. It’s the fact that she’s slipping into a quicksand, she knows she is. Something big is coming and no one but her can see it. 

It’s why she can’t sleep, it’s why she can’t eat.

“Fine.” she says quietly. “I feel very stressed. I feel like-” she sighs deeply, letting everything leave with her breath. “-like the whole world is just waiting to fall on top of me.”

Dr. Masina nods. “I could refer you to my friend; he’s one of the best psychologists in the state.”

“No, thank you.” Amy had already neglected the psychologist right after the accident. She didn’t need psychiatric help.She just needed her memories back.

"It's been a few months, Miss. Santiago." he says."Your case is a rare one, but I can assure you that you're on the right track."

"Would it help if I went back to the place it happened?"

"Perhaps, but not much." he pauses, takes off his reading glasses and folds them so they hang off his scrubs. He sighs before speaking. "My neighbor was involved in a car accident a while back. His case was less severe than yours and still, his memory of three days before the accident and during, is very spotty. He only remembers the truck barreling towards him."

"So, I might not remember anything at all." she says quietly. Dr. Masina’s kind eyes soften.

Dr.Masina nods slowly. "It'll be spotty, like really bad reception, or it might come crystal clear. It depends on your brain. When you fell, you hit your head on the railing and that caused your brain to bounce around your skull and all brains react differently towards this."

Amy nods, she had heard this before. The stairs at the apartment complex which she fell down weren't particularly steep and she wasn't up that high--just on the third floor. But, they said she tripped and fell down the stairs. On her way down, she tried to grab onto the railing but bumped her head pretty hard on it. Because of that railing, she forgot the last ten years.

Dr. Masina once told her that if she had hit her head on the stairs then things would be different, perhaps she’d remember everything.

Nobody is really sure how she fell down those stairs-the security cameras hadn’t worked for years- but Jake assured her she was chasing a tip from her CI about a case she was working on.

_The last thing I said to you was "I think Hitchcock is hiding candy in the men’s restroom.”_

After her appointment, Amy sits in her car. She presses her hands tightly against her eyes and tries to remember the accident. The smell of anything, anything at all. There's a brief flash of teeth and then nothing at all. It's still early, perhaps she could...-But, no.

She promised Jake she'd wait until they got to that part in the binder but, she has to know, she wants to know. Just wants a look at it, a quick look. He doesn’t have to know.

This is all this takes before her car roars on and she’s on her way.

Fifteen minutes later, Amy glances up at the apartment building, the chipped walls and the dark, dingy smell bring a chill to her bones. It’s even like the bright sun that was shining has gone hiding, making everything in this side of town darker and mysterious.

Something tells her she should go home.

Still, she opens the door and looks for the stairs, Jake's words echo in her ears.

_You were looking for Lucas Francis._

_**How long were we married by then?** _

**__** _Almost two years._

_**Had the marriage not changed the baby conversation?** _

**__** _It was complicated._

Amy narrows her eyes. She tries to remember the staircase and tripping over it to her own rabbit hole. She climbs up, still hearing Jake in her ears. It makes her a bit guilty but she shoves that guilt down as she tries to remember. As she walks up the stairs, something tells that she wouldn't like what she found. That she should leave.

Up, up, up she goes.

_**Did I ever tell you who told me he was there?** _

**__** _No, you didn't tell me anything. One moment, you were in front of me going over your files and the next you were speeding out the door._

Her hand sweats as she walks up the stairs, she glances down as she hits the second floor. The walls are dingy and there's a slight smell of rotten take out. There's a loud scream and then a laugh. Amy closes her eyes. 

What were you doing here Amy?

_**Weren't you suspicious?** _

**__** _You didn't give me a reason to be and after everything, I didn’t think I had the right._

_**Everything?** _

**__** _After I told you we should wait, things were...wrong between us. Like, I told you on the roof, things were hard._

_**Even after the wedding?** _

**__**_Yes. After the wedding, were so happy but..then, you brought up-_ a sigh- _things were just hard._

Amy pauses on the second floor, looking up towards the third. Here, where her feet stand is where the last ten years of her life were laid to rest. Here, is their tomb and here she is to reawaken them.

**Wake up, wake up, wake up, Amy.**

She slowly makes her way up, heart beating a symphony in her ears. A loud scream from one of the apartments startles her and she jumps, slipping slightly. She catches herself before she falls, lest she forget twenty years now instead. She climbs the rest of the stairs slowly, almost dreading reaching the third floor. 

When she does, she drops to her knees. Her shaking hands cover her eyes and she wonders if she should call Jake. She blinks up from behind her hands, shielding herself slightly. She drops her hands, feeling like a fool. There are no scary monsters here, just a dumb girl.

She should go home to her husband and their warm apartment. He probably has dinner ready and is waiting for her, glancing at the clock as time dredges on. She sighs and grabs onto the banister to stand.

But then, she remembers. She remembers it all.

- _her CI calling her with a tip about Lucas. Telling her that he was seen in some dirty apartments two weeks ago. Amy grabbing her jacket and telling Jake over her shoulder that she would be back later. She was totally oblivious to the fact that her CI had a gun pressed to his head and the hand that held that gun was Romero’s. She climbed those stairs, not knowing she wouldn’t remember getting down._

_The surprise that she felt when she Romero opened the door was staggering. The door closing behind her as she stepped into the apartment and her CI’s apologetic eyes._

_Romero telling her that she owed him a favor now that she went away once. Amy trying to get out of the apartment. Why was she here? God, what if they went after Jake? Jake! Please, please let him be safe._

_To fighting her way out and running down the hallway, the feel of Romero's hand grabbing onto her wrist before she made it down the stairs. Big, angry eyes staring into hers. **I said you don't get away from me twice.** His eyes darkening as he saw the stairs. **Let this be a warning and tell your little husband I'm coming when he least expects it.**_

**__** _Then, his arms pushing her down, where her head lolled and hit against the banister. The loud clunk and then, nothing._

_The last she saw was a sliver of teeth. Romero's smile._

* * *

It’s hard to hide it from Jake. She looks up from her dinner and wants to blurt it out, wants to confess but confessing would confirm her treachery and she isn’t ready for the look of deception in his eyes.

How is she tell him that she remembers without spoiling the fact that she went to staircase without him? How is she to tell him without breaking his trust?

Maybe it’s more important that she tells him about Romero but she’s scared.So far he’s seemed like a distant, almost made believe, thing but it brings a chill to her bones to know that he’s real. He’s real, really real.

When he’s asleep, she stares up at the ceiling and tries to form a plan, any plan, to ensure that he won’t get to them again. He got them when they were undercover, according to Jake, who is to say he won’t get them while they’re sitting at home. Maybe he’s been watching them for months or maybe he’s watching them right now.

Amy shivers and pulls the covers tighter around her.

* * *

“I gotta say, this is the first time I’ve ever been excited for any exam.” he shudders and Amy hides her smile behind her newspaper. “What is going on with me? I knew that eating fruits and vegetables would have a bad effect on me.”

Amy can’t hide her smile any longer and sets the newspaper on the table. 

“Maybe this is the turn around for you.”

“Yeah, like I’ll stop liking Die Hard.” he pauses, seriously worried, and says, “Babe, if that happens please shoot me.”

Amy rolls her eyes and stands, puts her breakfast plate in the dirty dishes. “According to your stories, I shot you in Florida.” There’s a streak of sunlight on his face, making it look like the sun is leaking out of him. Suddenly, there’s a gushing water of love filling her heart. God, she loves him so much and she’s hiding this from him-

“Anyway, I should get going. Don’t want to be the only one late.” He stands, kisses her quickly but hard, leaving her dizzy.

Amy nods, her thoughts gone, but that water still filling in her heart. “Break a leg.”

He grabs his satchel and looks over his shoulder, grins so wide his face threatens to split in half. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” she says, the door slamming behind him. “By the way, I know what happened…” she trails off and sits back down. It’s stupid of her to not tell him that it was Romero who pushed her down those stairs but she doesn't want to worry him. Doesn’t want to disrupt the test. She makes one promise, as soon as he passes, she’ll tell him.

Deception and treachery be damned. 

* * *

_I don’t really remember how things were when we came back. I know that we were scared that Romero was going to return. The NYPD and the FBI told us that he had left the country and that they had our backs but, still, we worried. We did try to have kids, I remember that. The baby name book we bought while in hiding rested on your bedside table but nothing ever happened._

_I always wonder if things had gone differently had the baby while in hiding been born and maybe it’s selfish but I like that I would have somebody to grieve your accident with. Even if it only was a three year baby with your eyes and my smile._

Excerpt from _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ by Jake Peralta.

* * *

She’s sitting in the break room when he comes back. She’s had two cigarettes to smoke but her hands still shake. 

“I failed.” he says slowly. Amy stands.

“What?”

“Yeah.” he says. “I..missed two questions.” he sighs. “I just missed two damn questions.” Amy falls to her chair in shock.

He failed. He’s failed. What, now? Jake notices her lost gaze and sits in the chair beside her. His warm hands envelop hers. 

“Don’t worry. I can take it again.” he nods almost desperately. Her heart pangs. There’s no reason for him to feel guilt, not when she’s the one hiding something. 

“In six months.” she says slowly. Jake’s eyes fall to the table and he nods. She decides it then. “Jake, I-”

Jake shakes his head as he looks up with determined eyes. “I’ll study harder.”

“No, Jake.” Amy stands and Jake slowly lets his hands drops from hers. Standing over him, he looks younger, like a child, and she lets the words flow out of her. “Jake, I remembered the accident.”

“What?” he shakes his head incredulously, standing himself. “Just the accident?”

“Yes.” she says meekly and looks over her shoulder at the precinct. They’re all preoccupied at their desks, not paying attention to the loud volume of Amy’s heart. Save for Hitchcock and Scully, who are asleep at their desks. She looks over at Jake again and sighs. “I...I remember why I was at that apartment complex. I was there to follow a lead, that part is true but...Jake, i was tricked. it was Romero. he's the one who made my CI call me he's the one who grabbed and me and who-" she stops talking, noticing the look on his face. Her face softens and Jake blinks slowly at her.

"He's the one who threw you."

"Yes."

“If I hadn’t failed those two questions…”

“Jake-”

“We could’ve caught him-

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Amy takes back her angry tone and closes her eyes tightly. “I went to the apartment complex. By myself. I didn’t take you or the binder.” she adds quietly and then opens her eyes almost meekly.

“I don’t care about that.” he shakes his head, eyes softening. His hands find hers and he takes them tightly. “I just can’t believe he did that to you. I can’t believe that once again he’s the reason why everything is so screwed up. Every time, we have something _good_ , he decides to show up again. Screws it up.” Something like a building bridge starts forming in Amy’s mind as Jake speaks. "He just ruins it!”

“Maybe we show him that we have something good..” she says slowly.

Jake’s face turns from confused to understanding. “Yes.” 

“Have you told anybody that you failed?” 

“Boyle’s out for lunch. So, nope, just you.” he says with a shake of his head. 

“Good.” she smiles. “Don’t.”

* * *

_After you got shot, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Everything that we had planned before still hadn’t become true. You were not my wife yet and there was no children. Instead, here we were again, hurt by a person that had hurt us time and again. Doug Judy was at the hospital with me, he heard what had happened, and when I told him my plan, he said “Let me go get my yarmulke from when I dated that Jewish girl.”_

_You were sleeping when I walked into the room, looking like an angel with a bandaged arm. You awoke quietly and between whispers, I asked you to marry me once again._

_There is no greater feeling than the reminder that not only had my closest friend married us but that you were finally my wife. There was still long talks that needed to come. There was still the baby talk that would turn things a little sour between us._

_My storm of guilt that took over any room it inhibited._

_But, then, in that hospital chapel, wearing Judy’s borrowed yarmulke, looking into your eyes as he sung about smushing, nothing else mattered._

Excerpt from _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ by: Jake Peralta

* * *

Streamers now hang from their living room, a sign reading _Congratulations, Grad_ greets everyone as they walk into the room.Jake walks around the room, gallivanting like a winner in his uniform. They told the squad earlier that week about their plan. Captain Holt had been for it, calling an old pal of his that now worked in the paper. There was a tiny section in the newspaper that congratulated Jake on passing his exam. Minuscule, but grand enough that it would be noticed.

The rest of the squad was in it, too. Except Hitchcock and Scully, who didn’t know what was happening more than half the time. 

Jake meets her eyes from the room and smiles slightly. 

Amy smiles back, remembering their prior talk.

“You’re still going to take it later, right?” she had asked earlier as she did up his tie. Jake shrugged, didn’t meet her eyes. 

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Jake.” her voice was quiet but resilient. Jake looked at her. “Go for it. I know how badly you wanted it.”

“Maybe." he says and an inkling of a smile covers his lips. "Maybe I will. When this is over."

Amy nods. "When this is over." God, she really can't wait.

For now, she stands with Holt and safe watches the door. She doesn't know if he's even going to come, if he's going to send someone or if he's even really watching them. Maybe this is just all in vain. Maybe he won't even follow them and the real torture of all is the fact that they're going to look over their shoulders all their life. Shields and armor drawn for someone who's never to come.

Jake meets her eyes over the party goers and he nods. He's not coming.

The rest of the night, Amy spends with her thoughts a million miles away. This whole party was for nothing. Holt and the squad promise that they’ll be in alert in case something happens. Rosa promised that she’ll be watching them. _Don’t be scared. It’s all going to be okay,_ she had said.

Amy waits until the very last guest leaves before falling into the couch in despair. Jake leans against the wall, watches her with quiet, reserved eyes.

"This was a bad idea." she says, sighing and undoing her tight bun. 

"I'm really glad you're my wife." he says quietly. Amy looks up in surprise as her hair falls like a cascade around her shoulders. "Just...I love you." He shrugs. "Maybe it's just time. Maybe i should just tell you everything. The good, the bad, the ugly.”

“Jake, you really don’t have to.” she isn’t sure if it’s because she isn’t ready or because the binder awaits bookmarked and ready in their room. Or maybe because she isn’t exactly sure what to do with herself when Jake finishes telling her everything. How to move on. How to live on. She was sure she was ready but now she knows she isn’t. The one constant thing since waking up was discovering hers and Jake’s relationship. What is she to have when he reveals it all?

“I was really hurt when we lost the baby. I...I really want to have kids with you. We talked about it but...a lot of it still sat unspoken. You were miserable while in hiding. You missed your binders, your family, Holt. You missed being you. It was unlike us to not talk about things that bothered us but six months pretending to be someone else messed with us.” 

He stops talking for a moment and all Amy can do is watch from the sofa, not moving one muscle. Has he finished talking? No, his eyes look too lost for him to be done. He’s taking a break, there’s more to come but she also wants to speak.

“Dr Masina insinuated that I wouldn't remember it all. He made it seem like I would hardly remember things." she says quietly. "He says they'll be like really blurry for the rest of my life."

Jake slowly makes his way to her and sits to her right. "Who cares about the old memories?" At her look, he quickly adds. "What I mean is that we can make new ones. You and me." he pauses again. "Boyle gave me information on the agency he got Nikolaj from. I didn't think we needed it but...now, I don't know."

"Now?" she asks, meaning _now that we're waiting for the other shoe to drop?_

He nods. "Or in the near future. If you want-"

"I do." she says with a nod, but quietly. Her heart thrums like a hummingbird in her chest. Adoption. Maybe it really is the best option for them. Maybe there's a little being out there that they can help grow.

Her heart beats faster.

“I kind of wish we’d gotten that big wedding with the dress and the cake.” he mutters. “Where your dad would dance you around the dance floor and where all your brothers would show up. Where my dad would probably get drunk and challenge your dad to a dance off.”

“Me, too.” she finds his hand and threads their fingers together. “Tell it to me all.”

Jake’s eyes soften and he nods a tiny nod.

* * *

As Jake tells her the good, the bad and ugly leftovers from their relationship, somewhere across town, someone reads the paper.

* * *

_Two Weeks Later_

It all happens when she’s home alone. Jake is out getting lunch for them. There were no more secrets. The binder had been laid to rest and Amy now knew every single part of her life, though she didn’t remember much of it yet.. She went to Dr. Masina one last time and told him that yes, she did want to see that psychiatrist. Maybe it wouldn’t bring her memories back but it would help her deal with them. 

They called the adoption place and were put on a waiting list. It’d take months, maybe years before they could adopt but really, she didn’t really care. 

She’s sitting in their room, index finger running down the list of names. Jake said they picked Lulu for the other baby, despite them not knowing the sex. Amy really likes Georgia and Jake really likes Holly, after John McClane’s wife. 

They could name the baby Plant for all she cares, she just really wants it to happen. She’s sitting in the bed, jasmine candle lit, and she’s so entranced that she doesn’t hear the door open or the footsteps, all she feels is the cold press of the gun against her temple.

“Miss me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of the end! I thought about posting it as one chapter but it felt really long so part two will be up soon! Probably by Monday.  
> I really hope you all don't hate me much and enjoy! Tell me what you thought in the comments.


	7. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a..long one. I really hope you enjoy and it was worth the wait

When Amy remembers it years later, she faintly remembers the close feel of the gun against her temple, her heartbeat accelerating like a lion running after its victim. Which, she mused later, made Romero the lion but he wasn’t chasing, no, he had already caught up to it. 

She remembers slowly standing up from the bed, being careful not to startle him as he gripped her arm tightly and told her not to try anything. The slight thump in the floor of the baby book, now long forgotten. The names she had read floating out of her brain and lightly hitting the ceiling, like deflating balloons.

Her eyes darting around the room in pure staggering fear, looking for her gun or for anything that could offer her a form of protection. _Don’t try anything_ , he says before half dragging her to the living room and Amy finally coming to her senses and wrestling away from him.

Everything is like in slow motion, as if her whole life is lagging, feet dragging through the clay.

Then, when he tosses her against the dresser and she hits her head against it, everything becomes painfully clear. 

He looms over her, gun waving as he shrieks. She’s not really paying attention. She’s still in shock because he’s real. He’s real and he’s here and he has a loaded gun.

“Anybody there?” he asks after a moment, kicking her leg making Amy fall to the floor on her elbows. She gazes up at him. “Where’s Jake? Where’s that little weasel?”

“I don’t-I don’t know.” She shakes her head. He grunts and Amy blinks away from him.

_What is she going to do? How is she going to get out of here safely? How does the gazelle try to escape from the lion’s jaws?_

Then, the sun moves through the curtain, illuminating the precision knife she uses for her scrapbooks thrown under the bed. She gets an idea. 

“Where’s he gone?”

“I don’t know.” She says again but she’s distracted, she’s trying to figure out a way to get the knife without him noticing. He doesn’t notice her eyes going to the bottom of the bed or the three feet between her hand and said knife.

Still, his face darkens like a storm approaching water.

“You know, I told myself that I’d stay away for a while, I never really meant to hurt you. My problem is with Jake, not you, but he’s a slippery little eel. How do you catch a little eel? By getting Mrs. Eel. But what do you do when Mrs. Eel tries to escape?” he pauses. Amy looks up at him, her left hand slowly reaching under the bed. “Do you a) let her run? Or do you b) push her down some stairs because she’s really pissed you off by running away?”

Amy swallows thickly, remembering his thick hands on her shoulders and the BANG as her head hit the railing.

“I felt sort of bad when I saw you at the bottom of the stairs, all pale and barely breathing. I felt so bad that I even called an ambulance. ” He laughs, waves the gun around. “But, look at us now.” He grins off into the distance, slightly distracted and Amy takes a chance. The knife edge digs into the floor as she slowly drags it up. It makes a noise, like a scratch, but it goes unheard by Romero.

And before he sees her, she stabs it as hard as she can into his leg. It feels like cutting into raw chicken and she cringes but doesn’t stop until it’s jammed into his leg.

He lets out a hiss of pain, cursing loud enough to shake the door off its hinges. She knows she’s hit a tendon from the gushing blood and the loud curses that continue streaming through his mouth.

“You fucking-“ he begins and points the gun straight at her but before he can shoot, she twists the precision knife, making him fall onto his knees in pain. A loud crack sounds as he falls onto his knees. As he falls, he presses the trigger, the bullet grazing her shoulder and hitting the dresser behind her. Amy doesn’t let go of the knife, despite how much he tries to wrestle away. The blood runs down her hand as she twists it again, as if she’s unlocking a door, or perhaps locking one.

Her own shoulder bleeds onto her shirt, making the purple dark but she can hardly feel it. She can hardly breathe as her heart beats in her ears.

He lets out an ear-piercing scream and scurries to grab her, no doubt to finish putting that bullet in her shoulder or maybe in her head but she crawls away. She makes it to the kitchen with him ambling behind her, his leg makes it hard for him to walk and Amy hears as he drags it behind him. She imagines the blood trailing after him like a trail and shivers.

As she makes it to the door, he shoots off the gun again. This one misses her terribly, hitting the refrigerator instead. He’s losing blood, a lot of it, and Amy knows he’s very close to passing out. Still, she runs. She makes it out to the hallway, Romero now running after her slower. His threats are quieter, duller, the intensity oozing out of him in red, thick blood.

Her shoulder starts to ache now, the pain like a pulsating heart. The blood drenches her top even more now, now going down to elbow. She’s dizzy, too and knows that she only has to outrun him. He’ll be down soon, she knows he will. 

Black spots appear in her vision. She blinks tightly and they’re gone but the edges of her vision remain blurred.

She’s at the stairs, about to start climbing down when he catches up to her, his thick hand wrapping around her mouth as she begins to call for help. His eyes are dark storms, a hurricane destroying everything in its path.

 _Jake, Jake, Jake,_ she thinks.

“You think you’d get away from me a third time?” he says throatily. Amy tries to wrestle his hand away from her mouth, her blood soaked hands streaking his with red. He presses the gun to the middle of her chest and she drops her hands. “You think I wouldn’t push you down those stairs? Stab you with this knife just like you did to me? Think I wouldn’t put another bullet in you?” He pauses, teeth glowing as he breathes through his mouth harshly. She can tell he’s in tremendous pain. “Because of Jake I got six months in solitary and ten more years added to my sentence.”

 _But you got out_ , she wants to say but can’t. The only sound is the dripping of blood from his leg and his harsh breathing. 

“You want to know what I did during solitary? I thought of everything that I would do to Jake once I got out and I crafted a plan.” He shakes his head. “Jake doesn’t deserve an easy exit, doesn’t deserve one big hit and that’s it. He deserves to be chipped down little by little until there’s nothing left but rubble.”

Someone in one of the apartments laughs at something on TV and Amy calls out to them _help, please help. Call Jake or Rosa_. _Anybody._

“It wasn’t easy to get out.” Romero shakes his head. “But once I did and I found out about your little _wedding_ , I made sure it didn’t happen. And then you two left in hiding.” He laughs a booming laugh, eyes un-focusing on her face. “It was hard to find you, you know? But, a buddy of mine remembered you from the hospital.” He pauses, fakes sincerity. “Sorry about the baby, by this way.”

This is the final thing Amy needs before she kicks him in the leg. As he stumbles, Amy reaches out and pushes him. He rolls down the stairs, dropping the gun with a clack. Amy races down and grabs it before he can. He groans from the stair landing and Amy can tell that the knife has edged deeper into his leg.

“Goddamn it!” he grumbles, teeth grinding in his pain. He looks very pale, all the color siphoned out of him. _Is this how he saw her those months ago? Pale and in pain at the foot of the stairs?_ , she thinks.

With shaky hands and an even shakier voice, she says, “Romero, you’re under arrest.”

* * *

When Amy awakes at the hospital, she sees Jake asleep at her bedside. She isn’t sure how she woke up here. All she remembers is her neighbor, Mr. Tatum, finding her over Romero’s almost passed out body and his shaking hands as he called 911 after she ordered him to. Then, after that, everything is blurry. She has a slight headache and she figures she fainted. Her bloody clothes have been exchanged for a blue hospital gown and Romero’s blood on her hands is washed off. But, still, she feels the sticky sensation.

Jake’s chest rises as he sleeps, his arms are crossed on his chest tightly. The tightness in his brow tells her that he fell asleep worried, probably terrified. Her heart aches at the thought of him arriving and finding her passed out by the stairs with her bleeding shoulder.

She deliberates for a second and slowly stands up, careful not to move any of the cables attached to her. Her finger traces over his features as he sleeps. She knows she should feel relief at the thought of Romero being gone, of him and his horribleness leaving them alone finally, but she’s a little scared. Because, in the trees, there’s always another monster but, as she looks at his calm sleeping face, the fear in her chest dissipates. Because, no monster if ever that scary without him by her side.

He wakes shortly after that and as they share her green hospital provided Jell-O, he tells her that Romero was gone. This time for good. He told Amy of arriving and finding Mr. Tatum crying over her fainted body. He was holding her gun and making sure that nobody got close to her or Romero as the police arrived.

“He’s honestly traumatized.” Jake adds.

Amy makes a mental note to send him a basket of fruit as thanks.

He pauses as he speaks and says, “You stabbed him in the tendon, you know?”

Amy grimaces, remembering the sickly feel of his blood gushing down her wrist and the twisting of the knife.

“At least he’s away.”

Jake nods and his face turns worried. “It was so scary to find you like that. Blood all over your hands and just…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Just, I got dejavu to what it probably was when, you know…” 

Amy nods, takes his free hand. “Yeah, I know.”

“I didn’t see you that time until the hospital and seeing you there with blood all over you, makes me glad I never did.” 

Amy squeezes his hand. “Want the rest of my Jell-O?”

Jake’s face conveys his relief and he nods, polishing off the rest of her Jell-O while she takes a nap.

* * *

It takes her a while before she can move her arm without grimacing and another three months before they take bandage off. He grazed a bone and they warn her that she’ll feel the pain once in a while, especially during the cold times. Amy rolls her eyes; yet another cruel reminder that those ugly moments existed. 

Holt puts her back on the street after weeks of her begging him and six strongly worded letters stating her case. But, Jake telling him “Don’t be Captain Lame, sir!” is probably what did it.

As she showers, she glances at the scar in her arm, tracing it with her finger. The scar on her upper arm is a few inches below it and Amy connects them like a constellation. _The Wounds of Magnitude_ , she names it.

The blood of Romero remained in the crevices of the wood flooring in the kitchen. They told her he wouldn’t be able to walk anymore without limping. But there wasn’t a whole lot of walking in thirty years solitary.

* * *

Her mother stops by one afternoon, a few months after the sentencing, and helps her tidy the living room. They hang balloons around the apartment, banners, and her father even brings one of his prized wines from his wine collection along. Albeit, dragging his feet slightly. Jake arrives from work and his eyes gleam at all the decorations, their friends, and Amy’s joyful face.

“Happy birthday.” She tells him and kisses his cheek.

The party isn’t the real present. The real present is an envelope tucked into deep into her drawer. It’s been there for two weeks and sometimes when he isn’t home she opens and stares at it to make sure it’s real. She put it off until his birthday, knowing that’d she’d really nailed the gift this year.

Later, when it’s just the two of them and he’s drifting off to sleep she whispers to him, “Do you want your real present now?”

“Now?” he mutters back, almost asleep. “I’m kind of tired but I can probably wake up. Just give me a minute.”

“Not that.” She says and rolls her eyes. She rolls out of bed and walks to the drawer, her hands find the crisp envelope in the bottom. Meanwhile, Jake sits up, rubbing his tired eyes. There’s a million butterflies in her stomach, making a home out of it and she’s very close to throwing up or passing out. Maybe both. She hands it to him, her hand shaking with excitement. Jake starts to open it but stops.

“Did you get me Mets tickets?”

“Nope.” She bounces back on the bed tucking her chin into her knees. She watches with fascination as he reads the letter. His eyebrows furrow as he reads it once and then again. She’d done the same before and she understands the look on his face. 

Then, when he looks up it’s the clouds have cleared. “We’re off the waitlist.” 

It’s not a question but Amy still says, “Yes.”

He reads it again, eyes dragging along the three sentence paragraph. 

_Mr. Peralta and Mrs. Santiago-Peralta, we’re pleased to tell you that you have been taken off the waitlist for the Nicholas Huck Adoption Center. Your caseworker, Hannah, will assist you through the process of adoption. If you have any questions…._

Jake’s quiet for a second and then when he looks up, Amy can see the emotions in his eyes. Joy, happiness, excitement. “I thought I’d be sadder about turning 41 but,” he shrugs. “this is the best birthday ever. Beats that time my Uncle Scott took me to Coney Island.”

Amy grins. “Best birthday ever?”

“The best.” he grins and reads the letter again. 

* * *

“Adopting a younger child is a relatively long wait.” Hannah says a week later, the words come quickly from her mouth as if she’s said this again and again to hopeful parents. There’s a wrinkle in her eyebrows, too, as she thinks of the older kids who didn’t take their eyes off the two of them as they walked around the adoption agency.

Amy’s not paying attention. She’s staring out the window, out at a little girl with wild curls. She’s about eight with dusky skin slightly darker than hers and observant eyes. She’s swinging slowly on her own, big black book in her hands. Her eyes move quickly as she reads. The wind moves her hurricane of hair and she sweeps it back with one motion. Amy remembers seeing her when they toured the agency. She looked up, saw them: young, green and eager, and looked back to her book.

Amy stomach drops at the thought of how many couples she’s seen to know exactly what they wanted.

Jake and Amy had spoke about the adoption and had settled on a younger child. Ideally, a baby. But now, Amy was rethinking everything. 

Amy turns to Hannah. “What about an older kid?”

Jake’s eyebrows raise at this but the determination in Amy’s eyes soften his eyes and he nods along. “Yeah, an older kid.”

"Older kids are not usually as sought after as babies and most of them end up spending their time here or in foster homes." she pauses. "A lot of kids have gone through a lot in their lives."

Amy looks at the curly haired girl again and imagines the pain and the heartbreak. Although Amy’s own heartbreak is different, she feels for her. 

Amy looks away from the curly-haired girl and into Jake's eyes. "So have we."

* * *

“Are you sure about this?” Jake asks her quietly when Hannah leaves them alone for a second.

Amy nods almost automatically. “Are not up for it, Peralta?”

Jake smiles, his hand settling on hers. “With you? Anything.”

Amy squeezes his hand.

* * *

Her name is Liliana and she’s eleven, about to turn twelve in three months, she explains in her quiet voice. Every so often, she looks up to make sure they’re still here and listening. Jake almost melts on the floor when she says that she’s seen Die Hard. 

Hannah tells them her backstory: abandoned at two at a church, bounced around several foster homes, almost adopted once but the process was stopped when the couple found a baby. After that, she’s been staying at the Center where Hannah says she’d probably stay till she turned eighteen.

“I love her.” he says when they’re walking back to their car. “I seriously love her.” 

They tell the squad later that week that they’re going through with the process. 

“Terry is proud of his children.” Terry says with tears in his eyes when they tell them her backstory. “And Terry already loves his little niece.” Boyle sobs even more and tells that Nikolaj will be her best friend.

“Even better, I can see it now: us as father-in-laws.” he squeals. “You’ll be a Boyle cousin, Jake!” 

“Yeah, that’s never going to happen. ” Jake says and shakes his head. “We haven’t even been approved for her adoption yet.”

“That agency would be stupid to not let you two be parents.” Boyle says.

“I agree.” Holt adds. “I think you two will be spectacular parents.”

“Thank you, sir.” Amy replies. 

“Of course, it helps that the little girl isn’t biologically related to Amy because then maybe she’ll have a chance of having actual friends.”

“Thank you, Gina.” Amy says with an eye roll.

“I can take her on my bike.” Rosa says with a smile from the back of the room, her feet resting on the table. “ Better yet, when does she turn sixteen? I have an old bike I’ve been restoring-”

“Maybe we should hold off on her meeting you guys.” Jake interrupts, scared for Liliana and setups by Boyle, motorcycles given by Rosa. But, his heart swells. Is this feeling in his heart what every parent feels when they think of their kids? 

* * *

They take her out weekly to dinner and she eats everything, including all her veggies. She doesn’t complain at all. The process of the actual adoption is long and her twelfth birthday comes and goes. Jake and Amy take her out for pizza, along with two of her friends from the Center. For her present, they buy her pink, glitter flats that she sits in her lap and stares at during the ride back. 

When the papers go through and they go down Steward Street instead of turning towards Howard, Amy’s heart nearly bursts. Amy had already cleared out her office as a room for her. Jake surprised her and painted it Liliana’s favorite color. They almost went crazy picking out furniture and curtains. Terry spent a whole weekend drawing constellations on the ceiling, using glow in the dark paint so she’d see them before she went to sleep.

Liliana looks around with awe at the room and sets the little belongings she has in the drawers. Including, her birthday flats still as new as when they bought them.

Jake worries about her a lot, checking in on her almost hourly. Most of the time, she’s reading in Amy’s old childhood rocking chair. Other times, she’s napping. 

He whispers to her at night, “She’s really quiet.”

"Yeah, and you talk way too much." He glowers at her playfully and Amy lets out a smile. He did talk too much, just nervous ramblings as Liliana stared blankly at him. They were entertaining and honestly, a little pitying. "Let's hope it catches on."

* * *

She starts school that August at the middle school five blocks down. Amy’s mom picks her up most of the time, commenting to Amy how Liliana does her homework almost immediately arriving home. 

Her mother adored her from the first glance. Now, every week her mother came to teach her how to knit and her father played chess with her. 

“She’s very precious.” Victor tells her later when Liliana is asleep. “Don’t let any Jake get on her.” 

“Well, jokes on you because we have weekly Die Hard marathons.” Victor grumbles under his breath. Amy knew her father loved Lily as soon as Lily said she knew how to play chess. He loved her even more when she bested him thirty minutes later. She was quiet around him but she listened diligently as he spoke to her about chess. He didn’t speak to her like she was a child and Amy could tell that she liked it.

Amy usually drops her off in the morning, helping her comb her hair into a braid and ironing her uniform. One day, however, Jake is the one who drops her off and at noon, they come home smelling of popcorn.

“Jake, isn’t she supposed to be in school?”

“Yeah, um.” Jake glances back at her. Liliana looks down at her still unscuffed shoes, the wild curls in her braid unraveling. Jake shrugs. “We wanted to watch the new Thor movie, okay?” Amy glares at him but he shoots her a pleading look. _I’ll explain later_ , it says and Amy sighs.

“How was it?”

Liliana looks up Jake, who nods to her, and she says, “It was really funny.” The smile on her face grows. “We saw Hulk’s butt.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “We saw Hulk’s butt, Ames. How cool is that? Isn’t that way funner than school?”

“It’s actually ‘more fun’; ‘funner’ isn’t a word.” She corrects. “Which you’d know if you went to school instead of looking at Avengers’ butts.”

Jake sticks his tongue out at her and Liliana hides her smile.

Later, when Liliana is watching TV in the living room, he tells her the truth. “Her nails were digging into the door, Ames. I didn’t have any other choice.”

“You think she’s being bullied?”

“No.” Jake hesitates. “I think she’s scared.”

“Of what?”

“That we….” he trails off. Amy’s eyes soften.

“That we won’t come back for her.” Jake nods. “She still has to go to school. We can’t homeschool her, Jake.”

“I know.” He sighs. “But, just let her take the rest of the week off.” She starts to talk but he cuts her off. “It’s just two more days. I’m off tomorrow and then both of us are off the day after. I’ll tell her school that she got the flu and I’ll pick her homework so she still does it. Then on Friday, we go out to eat, all three of us. We can talk about school and everything else then. We’ll assure we’re not leaving her and maybe, even talk about a children’s psychiatrist.”

Amy thinks it over. In the kitchen, she can hear Liliana quietly laughing at something on the TV and her heart swells. As if they would abandon her. She loves her with her whole being. She loves that Liliana loves going to the museum, bringing her sketch pad with her and sketching as Amy looks at the paintings. Jake deserved credit for the sketch pad, finding her doodles in old napkins. He went out and bought her four new pads, pens, pencils, charcoal, paints. Liliana was taken aback and didn’t touch them for days but now had gone through two sketch pads.

Amy loves that she loves to draw as much as she loves to read.

She loves that she adores Rosa and loves Captain Holt, who didn’t know how to act around her at first but who now bought her books weekly, knowing her to be a voracious reader. 

Amy loves braiding her hair, making her lunch, just being her mom. 

But now, Amy sees all the clues. How her bed is always made first thing in the morning, her still-new shoes, her quietness which Amy mistook for shyness. Everything. Everything that she was doing to ensure that she would stay here, that she wouldn’t be a burden. She didn’t want to be returned like some malfunctioning appliance; she wanted to stay. She liked it here. 

Amy’s heart soars.

“Okay.” Jake begins to quietly cheer but Amy’s finger to his face quiets him. “But, no more decisions like this without my input.”

He nods. “Of course.”

“I mean, we’re her parents and this is a-“

“Parents.” He says and smiles widely. Amy’s smile mirrors his. “I just-I got goosebumps.”

“She _is_ our daughter now.”

“She doesn’t call us mom or dad, though.”

“Jake, it’s been like two months, give her time.” 

Jake nods slowly and then his face lights up. “ _My_ daughter beats your dad at chess weekly.”

Amy sighs and rolls her eyes but the smile remains on her face.

Damn right, she does.

* * *

Liliana listens carefully as they talk to her.

“I’m seeing one, too.” Amy assures. “I had a”-she looks over at Jake-“pretty bad accident late last year and I had to see one to deal with that.”

“What kind of accident did you have?” she asks. 

“I fell down some stairs and forgot Jake, my whole life.” Amy says. “But, I remember him now. It was scary and I tried to hide. I didn’t want to face a lot of things but, I’m stronger now.” She finishes with a smile. “There’s still a lot of memories that are really blurry and I probably won’t remember them but that’s okay. Jake and I have made some pretty amazing memories.”

Her eyes grow slightly misty and Jake squeezes her thigh from under the table.

Liliana listens carefully and looks down at the table.

“And you’re one of them.” Jake adds. Liliana looks up in slight surprise.

“Point is, we’re your parents now and we’re not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to be a quiet little mouse.” Jake says. “Yell at us if we do something that makes you mad, scuff your shoes, don’t make-”

“Jake-” Amy interrupts.

“-your bed every morning. Just be a kid, Liliana.” He finishes and Amy nods along. She thought it was going to go somewhere else but like always, he’s surprised her. 

“I like making my bed.” Liliana says after a brief pause. “And I hate when people call me Liliana. Can you just call me Lily?”

“Yes, _Lily_.” Jake emphasizes.

“And maybe in the future, if you feel like it, you can call us ‘mom’ and ‘dad’.” Amy says slowly, hoping to not startle her. Truth be told, she was bummed that Lily wouldn’t call them ‘mom’ or ‘dad’ but the saddest part was that Lily probably didn’t know what it was like to have a parent. 

Lily nods, and takes a french fry, dipping it in ketchup. She pauses and Jake nods encouragingly . “Can we stop by the art store later? I need another sketch pad.”

“Of course.” 

“We’ll get you twenty.” Jake adds and Amy shoots him a look but smiles softly at his eagerness. He loves her. 

“Thirty.”

* * *

When school lets out, they go down to Boston to see Jake’s parents. So far, they’d only seen Lily once in person but Karen bonded over her over art stuff, blabbing off for hours. Roger, on the other hand, went on a long tangent about meeting Picasso when he was younger. Jake later told her that her father thought he saw Picasso but it was probably just some bald man.

Amy feels like hell most of the trip and spends most of it in the guest room while the four of them play games in the kitchen and watched films.

Lily comes in to the room when she’s trying to rest off the headache. She walks carefully up to her and sits next to her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m sick.” Amy opens one eye, looking into her observant eyes.

“I don’t think you’re sick.” She says slowly.

“I don’t like Rodger but not enough to pretend to be sick.”

“I think you’re pregnant.” Lily says. Amy sits up automatically.

“What?”

“We learned in health class that when you’re pregnant you get really cranky and you throw up a lot.” Lily shrugs. “You threw up on the airplane and you haven’t left the room once.”

“That’s not possible.” Amy says. “I can’t…” she sighs. “the doctor says there’s like a ten percent chance I’ll ever have kids.”

“It’s still ten percent.” Lily says with a shrug and then her eyes darken. “If you have a baby, does that mean-“

“It doesn’t mean anything. It probably isn’t even true.” she says, reassuring her worried face. For the millionth time in her life, she curses her almost-adoptive parents. Still, she can’t remember her last period but she does remember not taking her birth control pill one night. “Put your shoes on; we’re going to the grocery store.”

Lily waits in the Walmart restroom as Amy sits in the stall and worries during the three minutes. She knows it’s probably just a bug—Hitchcock was sick last week—but part of her wished it was a baby. Still, ten percent was too slim of a chance. She knows she won’t be heartbroken if it’s not true. She has Lily, she has Jake. 

Her phone dings as the three minutes come to an end.

When Amy comes out, Lily raises her eyebrows in a told-you-so way.

Amy wants to smile at the direct Jake-like movement but she rushes into the stall where she throws up again.

* * *

_Amy glances over at Jake but he’s frozen, staring over the doctor’s shoulder as he speaks. The doctor’s voice is low, apologetic, and Amy looks down at her fingers._

_She feels numb, but she’s felt this way for months, ever since she stopped being Amy Santiago and started being Beatriz Lopez. Beatriz Lopez wasn’t an officer, she was a homemaker with a knitting obsession. It was hard to be Beatriz but as the numbness settled in, she wondered if large parts of her no longer were Amy but Beatriz._

_And now, she didn’t know who lost the baby. If she was supposed to mourn as Beatriz or as Amy._

_But, as she looks at Jake once again. She knows who he’s mourning as. Jake, simply Jake._

* * *

It’s hard not to tell Jake about the pregnancy but she has to be sure and she’s 37, any pregnancy at her age would be high risk.

When Amy turned sixteen, her mother dropped a packet of birth control pills onto her bed. “You’re a Santiago; you can’t walk down the street without getting pregnant.” At her look, she added, “Better safe than sorry.”

Years later, Amy would look back at that moment with a cruel ironic outlook. She’s in a daze on the way back to precinct. She finds Jake in the evidence room going over some files. 

His back is turned to her, the hunch of his shoulders looking like a sloping hill. He turns at the sound of her boots. 

“Hey, babe. How was the dentist?”

“I’m pregnant.” 

Jake looks up from his file at once.

"What?"

"Yeah...I'm pregnant."

"When did you find out?"

"In Boston." She says walking over to him. "I thought Hitchcock had gotten me sick but..." Amy trails off and shakes her head. “The doctor confirmed it today."

“You’re pregnant.” He says slowly, as if not understanding the word. “Like, there’s a baby in you?”

“Yes.” She says. “Your baby.” She doesn’t even notice him wrapping her against him until she’s in his arms. He holds her tight against her, breath rustling her hair.

"Jake," she pulls away and tries to sound as serious as she can. "It's extremely high risk. There's a big chance it won't really happen."

"I know. I know." he grins and then he says, "We're having a baby."

* * *

When baby Elias is born, Amy watches as he coos in her arms. His eyes are all hers but even in his miniature state, she can tell the rest of his face is all Jake. When Jake first carried him, she was sure he was like ten percent away from crying. She had already done all her crying during the labor; she was all cried out.

The door opens and Jake walks in, Lily holding his hand. She looks hesitant, holding a big, blue bear reading _It’s a boy_. She was still anxious about the baby, despite how many times she read to Amy’s belly. Maybe, like Amy, she thought it was like a distant dream but here it was real and whole.

“Hi, there.” Jake coos down at the baby. Lily stays back, watching with guarded eyes. Amy signals her over, feeling for her little almost-thirteen year old heart.

“Come meet your little brother.”

Lily looks down and her face melts. “He’s cute.” Elias yawns, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. Jake’s eyes soften as he looks at both of them.

“My two kiddos.” Jake says, settling his hand on Lily’s shoulder.

Lily rubs her finger against his cheek and Elias’ tiny baby cheek dimples.

“You want to carry him?” Lily nods almost shyly, dropping the bear to the bed and holding her arms out. Amy lowers him into her arms and watches in wonderment as Lily perfectly positions him in her arms. Elias yawns again.

“Am I going to share a room with him?” she asks.

“For a little while.”

“I don’t mind.” Lily says. “I can take care of him. I took care of the babies at the Center.”

“You don’t have to.” Amy shakes her head. She wants to cry at the fact that she's’ trying so hard to not be a burden. “Just be his big sister. We’ll worry about the rest.”

Her mother comes to take her home and Lily’s eyes don’t leave her baby brother until the door is closed.

When it’s just her and Jake, she looks down at Elias’ now-sleeping face.

“I think it would’ve been so much harder.” She says quietly. “If I had my accident after them both.” She looks up at him and Jake is paying close attention. “I would be devastated to forget them.”

“I know.” Jake pauses. “That was one of the hardest times of my life and I was stupid to think having them around would be easier.” He shakes his head. “I think of all those times that I stayed up late thinking that you’d probably never remember me. If I had the kids with me, I’d probably go crazy if you didn’t remember us. I think I’d be more devastated for them.” He pauses. “I went down that scenario so many times. What I’d do.”

“What would you do?”

“Nothing.” Jake says quietly. “I thought that if you didn’t remember me, I’d help you fall in love with me again. But, if you found someone better, I wouldn’t stand in your way.”

“I think I’d do the same.”

He snorts. “As if. I’d live a hundred lifetimes and still fall in love with you.”

Amy smiles. “You said that to me before.”

“And I meant it then and I mean it now.”

“I wouldn’t remember her first Christmas with us or the first time I met her.” Amy says quietly.

“Falling in love with her.” Jake scrunches his nose up and smiles at her. “Or her adorable lisp for the first weeks.”

“Or his first kick.”

“Or the first time she called me ‘dad’.”

Amy laughs, “You cried like a baby.” Amy find his hand and threads their fingers. “The first time she called me ‘mom’, I’m pretty sure I couldn’t stop smiling.”

Jake glances at baby Elias. “Want to count his toes again?”

“No.” she says. “Let’s count his eyelashes again.”

* * *

“And, how are things?” Dr. Ramirez asks her.

Amy shrugs. “Pretty good. Elias is walking now.”

“No new memories?”

Amy shakes her head. “I have tons of good ones now. Lily joined the soccer team and Jake took so many the pictures of her. “

Dr. Ramirez smiles. “And the fogginess? It doesn’t bother you?”

That’s what Dr. Ramirez called her missing memories, the ‘foggy’. Those memories hadn’t returned and while she grieved them before, she didn’t mind anymore. Going through that terror and that heartbreak made her stronger. Made her and Jake stronger. 

“No, because everything ahead of me is clarity, I’m sure of it.” She thinks back to Romero, to her accident, to her father’s heart attack a few months prior. “There’s bad clarity and there’s good clarity and I’m glad I have Jake’s hand to guide me through it all.”

* * *

Amy passes her Lieutenant's exam when Elias is four. Lily, a sullen teen girl now, even pushed the bangs out of her face to attend the party. She was going through a straight phase and flat ironed her hair daily but the edges around her temples curled.

She’d been hanging a lot with Rosa and Lauren now that they were engaged and she thought that Lauren was the coolest person ever. 

Rosa corners her. “Hey, is your kid trying to steal my fiancée?”

Amy rolls her eyes, adjusting her uniform. “Leave her alone.”

"It's okay. I get it." Rosa lets out a half-smile. “I remember when I was sixteen and I had a crush on Mrs. Montevideo. She was so hot for her age.” Amy raises her eyebrows, noticing the similarities between her daughter and Rosa. It never crossed her mind but now it’s painfully obvious.

“You think...“ Amy trails off and Rosa shoots her a look.

“Duh.” Rosa shrugs. “Just don’t pressure her. Let her figure it out on her own.”

“Okay.” Amy nods. “I can totally do that.” Amy glances at the corner of the room at Lily and the stars dancing in her eyes. She can see her in five years, working her way through college, her curly tresses probably colored some outrageous color that Jake would think would look super cool but secretly hated. Elias would be nine then and soon enough it’d be his turn to be a sullen teen. She almost groans but instead, she smiles. 

Jake and Elias are in the other side of the room talking to Holt. The chevron on Jake’s uniform had happened two months prior and he wore it well. Elias notices her and lets go of Jake’s hand and runs over to her. He wraps his arms around her legs tightly. 

“I’m tired.” he moans quietly and Amy picks him up, pushing his thick brown hair away from his forehead. 

“We’re almost going home, bud.” She kisses his forehead and meets her husband’s eyes from across the room. 

She remembers thinking that she wasn’t the same Amy that Jake fell in love with and how stupid she really was. Was the loss of a few memories going to erase the years the had together? The loss? The tragedy? There was always going to be something there. 

It’s like he said, a hundred lifetimes and I’d still fall in love with you. Amy hugs her son tighter. He smiles from across the room and makes his way over to her. She extends her hand and their fingers mold together.

Screw a hundred. She’d live a million lifetimes and she’d still fall in love with him.

* * *

_I think everything leads to something, one way or another. I think that there’s paths we’re walking down, little doors that taunt us and doors that we mistakenly open in order to find that perfect one._

_And honestly, every single door probably leads me to you._

Excerpt of _Amy Santiago: A Life in a Binder_ by Jake Peralta.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, I'm really sad that we've arrived at the end but I'm really proud of this chapter and I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you thought in the comments. I just want y'all to know that I really appreciate them and your patience.  
> Enjoy! xx, Sabrina.

**Author's Note:**

> I really, really hope you like this!  
> Also, this is not going to be like the book. I've actually never read it but I really liked the premise and I'd rather go it blind and do it my own way. Anyway, let me know what you thought in the comments. [My Tumblr](http://www.idlewheelposts.tumblr.com)


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